Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto but I guess I do own Seth to a certain extent.

Warnings: Blood, Gore, lots of horror and a surprise ending.

Notes: I wrote this about two weeks about but meant to put this up yesterday but forgot. A small Halloween Iruka treat for everyone and for the record, this is not a Yaoi, specifically. It does however have homo vampiric slight eroticism (Anne Rice influenced). So the Yaoi squeamish could read this. Also I used a different style of writing for this and I kinda like it so please R&R.

The House of Umino


Squall Morpheus Leonhart

They say that a man died here in this room, this forgotten room in the forgotten compound of a long forgotten bloodline that still lives…

They say that it was a man no older than twenty-five that died and that he was one of the most prestige men in the country. They say that he used to be one of the most powerful and the most humble…

They say that the academy teacher, the soft kindhearted teacher was a direct descendent of him... They say that he is the reincarnation of him or the reincarnation of the part of his soul that managed to truly descend to the next plane of life. They say that Umino Iruka…

Screams unlike no other rang through out the night, a deep throaty shriek that echoed against the buildings. People young and old jolted awake with the sound still ringing in their ears. The town of Konohakure, Village of Hidden Leaf, ran to their weaponry stashes, this town was no ordinary town but that of an entire ninja, warriors who trained in stealth, better known as assassins, community. All were highly skilled and all were very powerful in their own right.

Warriors in black outfits and green vests vanished and reappeared against a starry night sky as they ran toward what they thought was the source of the sound. The shrill voice had already stopped but its residue still clung to the buildings of the village.

By the time the first ninja managed to arrive, all that was left at the scene of the crime was a pale body of a woman with puncture wounds in her neck, blood gushing outwards on the ground. Her eyes were still opened and widely so in fear and surprise. The white face held nothing but a veil of death and a familiarity of an old friend to those who arrived. She was one of the most powerful among the village but she had been killed. Her name was never mentioned but she was known to among her peer ranking as one of the elite ninjas called ANBU.

When the non-ninja civilians arrived, whispers of a demon arose and many pointed a finger at their own demon container, a boy sealed with a demon nine tailed fox inside. But no blood covered the boy neither had he any residue of the odor of the metallic liquid. No blame could be placed on him for he had an alibi, he was with the Uchiha prodigy sparing. Even their teammate and many others could attest to this. For once, no one could put the blame on the demon brat.

When the body was examined, it was to be noted that all the blood that was not on the ground had been gone. It only served to verify in the minds of the villagers that a demon was at the cause of this, even if it wasn't the demon child that was the bane of their lives. Surely a demon was at the fault of this murder and surely their leader, the Hokage, would do something to prevent another. After all how long until the whole city would be dead if this monstrous demon managed to kill one of the elite warriors.

Deep within the shadows, a dark being watched the crime scene. He smirked, showing off his fanged teeth, still drenched in blood and other fluids. A scar ran over the bridge of his nose, a pale pink contrast to his deathly white skin. Dark blue hair streamed down to his mid bare back. A black silk blindfold covered his eyes, the ends mixing with his hair's end. His black trousers gave the illusion of a disembodied torso and face floating in mid air. His bared hands were claw like and very pale. His arms laid encased black bracelets with streaks of blue. A black dragon serpent design donned his right bicep in tattooed ink, encircling that portion of his arm. He chuckled to himself silently before disappearing with a light gust of wind as if no one was there in the first place.

Soon after, another took his place, a different man yet almost the same one. In comparison to the other, he was very much alive than the former occupant of the alleyway. The newcomer was a complete mirror image of the deathly being, donned in the green and black outfit of his village but very tan in skin. He, too, had a scar on the bridge of his nose. Yet unlike the other, his eyes were for all to see, a deep chocolate black. At first, one would see a weakling before seeing the strength within his eyes and scarred bare hands.

He looked once up to the sky and said, "So it begins…" Then he, too, disappeared into shadow.

Dawn found itself looking down on a weary and wary town of ninjas. The village and its large buildings of Japanese style with a surrounding forest of trees gave off calming essences to all but none felt it or could. The attack the night before was not forgotten but rather engraved into the minds of those who saw. Security was increased and many tried to resume life like normal but the image of the bloody corpse could not be erased from their minds. No murder was ever done such as that and without some sort of evidence, no matter how mundane despite the bite marks were noted as such. Those were not enough, they needed more.

By midmorning, another sound could be heard but not that of shrill voices but rather the clang of blades. Two warriors could be seen from the tallest tower of the village, fighting with small knife-like blades called kunais. Flames of fire erupted from one warrior's hand but the other was too fast and soon he was grappling the other to the ground, fangs glimmered in the sunlight as alarms were sent and heard but just like the night before, the cavalry came too late.

Unlike before, this was a massacre. Blood was everywhere and anywhere, dripping from trees and spilling outward on the grass. Pieces of body parts were tossed haphazardly amongst the clearing. A decapitated head was set upright, looking toward the academy with its dull deathly eyes. Another ANBU had perished under a much worse situation.

The tanned man from last night was one of the first to arrive on the scene and already he started to examine the mangled pieces, swallowing the urge to vomit in the blood drenched clearing. Silently, he noted that not all of the blood was used in the crime scene by mere calculation. He had seen how many pints of blood were in the human body. He turned when someone called out his name for an analysis of the crime.

Later that afternoon, another person stumbled on a corpse mutilated just like the one from the night before. Only a blood written word was the only thing that acted like legitimate evidence, the word "Umino" was engraved onto the adjacent wall. The tanned man was questioned but no could however put a fault onto him, he was too kindhearted and softhearted. Such a man could do no such crime or even three!

No one bothered to watch him that night and no one noticed a dark blur against a moonlit sky. It was the same bronzed man rushing toward a clearing just two miles away from the academy. The clearing contained a waterfall but the man ignored the calming effect of such a thing as he walked through the water and into a cavern that lead to a lone building made of wood and glass sitting upon a lake, floating. The entire floor of the cavern was that of water, no stone and yet he had no trouble as he floated across the water divide to the house.

Pulling his hair down from his ever present, high ponytail, the dark locks streamed to his mid back. Instead of his normal outfit he wore an entirely black ensemble, covering his body completely except for his face and hands. A black slim sword was attached to his back. With the grace of an agile cat, he walked silently into the house, careful not to disturb any of the hidden traps. His leather strap that held up his hair slowly fell and drowned in the water. He did not notice nor did he care.

It was sometime until he found himself in a room covered in water and stone. Plants were placed haphazardly along the small wooden walkways of the bathing room. A very large room which the bottoms of the many pools were meters below the walkway. Light filtered in through the glass ceiling the cracks on the cavern's roof, giving the room an ethereal glow. He stood silent and did not speak until chimes of glass bells rang twelve notes. "I had thought you were going to let me do my job while you do yours."

The pale murderer rose from one of the depths of one pool, water raising him onto a liquid podium till he towered over the other by several hands. "Was I," he asked as he cocked his head to the side, "but you were too slow, dear beloved of mine. I wished only to feel the fear, the anguish, the pain of my victims but you! But you denied me such a thing, me your master, your ancestor, your other half." The last part was whispered in such a way that the dark man thought it almost endearing.

"Master, maybe. Ancestor, yes. But other half, I think not," the other defined with defiance, "You are but a demon cursed to wonder the earth and for my family to be cursed in watching you behave for eons and eons more. You are no more part of me than I am a part of you!" Such hatred broke through into the once kind voice of a man who taught children compassionately.

"But I am you and you are me," the pale one laughed hysterically, "We are but one and the same by the sharing of the soul. You, the part, had been given death and new life. I, the part, had been given life in death but never the opposite. We are opposites and yet so alike in so many ways. We could never part, never truly ever. Do you not agree my beloved?"

By now the pale one looked back onto his other only to see his back as the dark man walked back to whence he came. With a sigh, the pale killer disappeared back into his pool of water for another nap as his mirror slashed through the glass door with one swipe of his sword in anger. Glass shattered and the dark one looked onto the glass seeing many images of himself in the present and that past and that of the future.

In his fury, he grabbed one piece and slashed through his wrist in one fluid movement to his left bicep, exposing a dark blue dragon tattoo similar to his counterparts. Blood flowed like rivers, staining the remnants of his sleeve and dripped like thunder in the silence of the room.

He whispered to himself, "But I am not you or you me. We are not the same and neither will be."

Blood dripped onto the wooden floors like smattering rain falling onto the village of Konohakure. In his pool of water, the pale one smiled evilly, plotting his next meal.

Noon found no sun and no bloody corpses but only the platter of raindrops and the occasional thunder boom. Lightning flashed and the wind howled. The dark man could be found treating the boy with the demon seal dressed in a complete orange jumpsuit to some noodle soup called ramen at the Ichiraku Ramen booth. He smiled slightly, already giving into routine and normalcy. Yet at the back of his mind, the words of the night before still haunted.

As he was about to answer his companion, a chill shuddered through his spine. With a discreet glance, he looked behind him before standing. A soft smile and an excuse to go back to the academy, the tanned man walked ever slowly out of the restaurant and to the academy. His wallet much lighter than that morning.

A soft caress on the back of his bare left hand had his right itching toward his black pouch that was buckled around his right thigh. He stiffened slightly before turning to meet the culprit. At his side, a man with spikes of silver blond and face mask that covered his nose and mouth stared happily at him. A metal and cloth bandana covered one eye at an angle. "Yo."

With a flick of his head, the tanned man gave the pale skin ninja a look of annoyance. However just as he was about to speak, a shrill scream befell the village. The two men looked at one another before rushing toward the source in a blur of green and black.

In the middle of the town center, three bodies were deposited onto the dirt floor. All were white faced, shocked engraved in their faces and open eyes. Blood drained completely, their small limbs torn off almost entirely. Heads lulled from decapitation wounds of a beheading unsuccessful. A witness later said that the three victims just fell out of the sky. They were only mere children, no older than five or six. All their blood had been diminished and in one victim's hand a pristine white note written in blood gave this to say:

Umino, embrace but the night and never the light.

Remember thou art mine.

When questioned again, the young man refused that he knew anything connected or not but almost all thought he knew what was going on or at least what was causing it. Yet deep in their hearts, they believed that this was not so, he was too kind, too softhearted. So again that night no one bothered to keep watch over him, that is except for four.

It was the pale haired man and the demon sealed child along with two others, a boy and girl. The boy was pale skinned as well as the girl but his eyes were endless pools of onyx ebony, the female's, bright cerulean. Dark locks brushed his shoulders as the back of his head was spiked outwards. The girl had a hair of very bright reddish pink cropped just short of her shoulders.

The boy wore a black jumpsuit with the emblem of red and white paddle fan. The girl donned a red Chinese dress with black spandex shorts underneath. All of the members of this quartet had a black pouch strapped to their right thigh and a tan circle bag that hung from their concealed belts. Connected to their ears, a compact black device served as their communicator.

Their prey had only just begun to leave his apartment before disappearing over rooftops in blurs of blue and black. His attire was much different than that of the night before. He held no sword and exchanged the black turtleneck of his ninja uniform for that of a very long sleeved shirt, the ends of the sleeves dangled far from his bared hands. His hair was undone.

With great stealth, the quartet ran in pace with their prey, never knowing that the tanned man knew they were there. Yet the prey did not give any clue that he knew. He kept running like he thought was alone. It was miles from the village, a two hours worth of running. Soon the party came across a cliff side that overlooked the ocean. With great care the pursuers hid in the shadows of the scattered foliage.

The dark man turned ever slightly toward where he knew the group was hiding, his arms crossed and head down. The chiming of glass bells brought his head upright and before him, looking down, was the pale killer of two days past atop of a pillar of water. "What's next? Hostages," the dark one asked bluntly, already knowing the answer.

"Hah, you know me too well, beloved, perhaps too well," whispered back the killer, smirking, "You have been followed."

"So? What of it? You and I both know that it is only a matter of time," the dark one hissed back as the other slowly descended next to the man. Unbeknownst to them or perhaps they knew, the pursuers' eyes widen at the sense of familiarity between the two seemingly alike strangers. "Death and life, yin and yang. We are perhaps more alike than I would like but that does not mean that I will accept that."

"Yet you admit it," the deathly stalker leaned closer to his counterpart, "it does not matter to me that you accept it or not, just as long as you admit, ma chère. As long as you know what you must do or the death of your home will be spilled at your hands, is all I care for."

"Not yet, not yet." The other nodded and one pale hand waved over to the spot the others were hiding. A small mist soon covered the area.

"A mist to make the illusion of dreams. Remember what you must do, what we must do," his breath just barely touching the dark one's lips, "and a kiss to remember me by."

By twilight's hour, the disappearance of nine was reported to the Hokage's office. Rain fell ever on the ninja village as many search teams were sent and guards were placed around the dark tanned man. He did not mind them much. It was procedure when one was assumed to be the next target. His guard was that of two platoons, eight persons in all.

The silver haired man stood with a blond companion that crewed on a straw of wheat and black bandana covering his forehead completely. Next to them an eccentric man donning a green vest and jumpsuit with a black bowl haircut and exceedingly large eyebrows proceeded to talk mere nonsense about the silver hair ninja, his rival, and the aspects of youth. In one other end, a bearded man smoked a cigarette with a woman covered in thick bandage-like dress and red eyes. Somehow the three children from the night before managed to get themselves on guard duty of their old teacher.

The guarded wore a black trench coat that reached mid thigh with black trousers and turtleneck. On his feet were not the uniformed blue sandals but that of black steel toed boots. Underneath his sleeves, black bangles mixed with silver laid hidden from view with small blades attached to their interiors which were at the moment sheathed.

The dark man looked out the wind momentarily before standing from his seat behind his desk in a college-like classroom. Wood creaked underneath his weight as he stretched his limbs and tried to awaken the joints of his body. Thunder clashed as he spoke, bending backwards, "I'm going for a walk."

Almost immediately, a loud protest was sounded, particularly from the orange clad boy. However he ignored them as he stepped outside and allowed the rain to fall unto his upturned face. Lighting flashed and the man began to walk toward the waterfall area from before, knowing that most were already gathered there and would have surely found the hidden compound. He did not mind, it was time for secrets to be revealed.

He walked slowly toward his destination, his pace thoughtful and not in haste. There was enough time for the blood shed, but whose he had yet to decide. He was only a spectator since the beginning, never a full on participant and now he was being called. Being called by an ancestor who claimed to be his other half, an insane man who was half dead. His companions walked several paces behind yet even though he did not look behind him, he knew of their questioning looks.

His aura was not that they knew of and now the truth of his haunted life would glow in the thunder's lighting. His metal engraved headband was long ago shed earlier that day. His sword gone from his hand and forever sealed in its container. The truth never seemed anymore clouded.

At the waterfall, sure enough a crowd had gathered and as he came closer he knew why.

Bodies, all nine of them dangled from the cliff's top on several garroting wires. Heads lulling to the side, eyes wide open in shock. Pools of blood mixed with the rain and the stream. Limbs were barely holding on by thick strands of silk as if the mutilator tried to assemble again. Mouths agape like those of their spectators, flies flying in and out of them. Ears and noses were cut off and hung on little hooks on the nearby trees like decorations for winter solstice, a bloody and gory sight for anyone to behold.

The dark man stood in silence for but a minute before entering the waterfall, which no one bothered to find in their dumbstruck state of awe. His protectors were too busy conversing with their Hokage to see him disappear into the water.

Bloody red liquid replaced that of the clear water that the compound floated upon days earlier. A deep dark crimson reflection looked up at him from its watery deeps. A small empty smile graced his features before he retained indifference. He glided swiftly on the surface. A cold feeling settled into his heart.

The moment he entered the lone building, no walls were seen and all were mere pools of water with small waterfalls at different heights. Rocks were placed haphazardly among the land. The house changed from building to water garden battlefield. Every where that had water was filled with the red blood like substance though he would not be surprised if the liquid was indeed blood.

Rain graced down through the cliff, the stone barrier now gone by the powers of the compound's clan. Raising his head to the rain, he screamed, "Seth!"

"That was the first time you used my name," the demon now known as Seth appeared, "Iruka."

Iruka glared at his mirror, hatred blind his sight for but a moment. Bodies long decayed decorated the walls of the cavern but the ceiling was no where to be found. Darkness and light fought as flames of blue emerge from the chaotically placed torches. Now Iruka could see the eyes of his other uncovered, white eyes with no pupil or iris.

"Why have you come?" Seth began to circle his counterpart, his hands covered in the red liquid, nails growing longer by the second to razor-sharp claws.

"To put an end to this." Iruka's sleeves exploded and the bracelets unsheathed their blades outward with a thought of his mind. Two kunais already found their way into his hands. His dragon tattoo and that of the pale murderer glowed respectively before dulling.

"How," asked Seth as he lunged forward, claws drawn. He slashed in a crossing motion but his victim was not there. He came too late as two blades found their way into the demon's shoulder blades. Pain flared in not Seth's eyes but rather Iruka's.

With widen eyes; Iruka looked questionably at his foe before dodging another lunge. His left hand reached into his tan pouch attached to his belt and pulled out four throwing stars or shurikens. The projectiles were deflected by a mere slash of air. With great speed, Iruka appeared before Seth, smirking a bit before punching him in the jaw. His own jaw feeling the effects of the jab. Unbeknownst to him, his protectors finally found him and sent wave after wave of projectiles, kunais, shurikens, and many others.

Pain burst from every area that Seth was hit on Iruka's body and Iruka dully noticed blood flowing down his arms. With a small glance, he noticed he was wounded. With great defiance, Iruka screamed, "Demon cursed, evil within, darkness unknown, why does thou haunt thy so!?!"

"Do you not under stand it? We killed, we murdered, we drank from our victims and found pleasure. We are one and the same. I am forever you and you are forever me." Seth threw his head back and laughed. "I am the dark you reject, the one you admit but never accept. I am the evil of your heart. Your pain is mine and my pain is yours. We give and receive all the same."

Iruka soon found himself in Seth's embrace, fangs dragged lightly over his neck. "Never," Iruka whispered, "have I seen the truth so clear." With that he plunged a long stiletto hidden in his coat into his own heart. Seth cried out, blood emerged from his bare torso.

Iruka dragged his blade encased arm over his chest and dragged hard. His hands soon found themselves in a sequence of hidden seals or hand positions. His voice whispering a chant and a whirlwind of water engulfed them both to the surprise of their spectators.

From the swirls of water, one man emerged. He was pale and donned Iruka's clothes and had his scar but his eyes remained white with no iris or pupil. The monstrous smirked evilly before plunging himself onto Iruka's allies. Blood was spilled and when the rain stopped, the demon found himself bathed in the light of a blood red moon.

The Hokage watched helplessly as her companions fell to this monster. The demon looked at her and spoke in an eerie voice not unlike Iruka's kind tone, "Look, Lady Hokage, I made the blood rain."

The rain still fell regardless of the moon's appearance but the liquid was not that of clear water of dark red crimson blood.

They say that a man died here in this room, this forgotten room in the forgotten compound of a long forgotten bloodline that still lives. They say the room was that of the bathing room with great pools of water and waterfalls, a room of water gardens.

They say that it was a man no older than twenty-five that died and that he was one of the most prestige men in the country. They say that he used to be one of the most powerful and the most humble. They say he was drowned by his beloved by his confession of love, a beloved of the same gender. They say his anger of rejection clashed with his acceptance of his love's choice. They say his soul split and one half was forever cursed to look for it other half.

They say that the academy teacher, the soft kindhearted teacher was a direct descendent of him. They say that he could never be that person, he is too different. They say that he is despite his personality. They say that he is the reincarnation of him or the reincarnation of the part of his soul that managed to truly descend to the next plane of life.

They say that Umino Iruka is not human.

Post Notes: Okay that isn't one of my fave but I did this for a class assignment, a ghost story exact and take that assignment and ran all the way from Huntington Beach (Surf City) to Seattle and back, really. I really hope you enjoy this or even if you didn't please give me a review and for those waiting for NiL, that will have to wait until I finish my original novel for a scholarship contest. $7100!!! Wish me luck! And Review this please!!!!