Chapter 9


Iruka left, with a click of our bedroom door.

The truth has finally dawned upon me.

I want it to end, all of it. The torment, the nightmares, remorse, insanity. Everything...

"Come to me, my sweet."

And I will join you, soon enough. After all, it can't possibly hurt that much more- just the phantom kiss of a razorblade, a couple pinches of pills...

No one can resist Death's sweet seduction, especially if one is standing on the very aphelion from hope.


Hark! Its alluring call. Shrieking like a driven whore, waiting to hungrily consume her lust, yet singing like a sirene, pulling its victim into willingly stepping towards their demise.

And what is that coming towards me? I cannot make it out with much detail, but the metallic sheath of the blade it is holding shines with malice, even through the dank, thick fog. Its curvature is like that of a scythe... and that can only mean one thing- Death is coming.

It is looming closer now, that I can see its torn robes, and a stark-white, skeletal hand that grips its blade, threatening to kill. The scent of fleshy decay that is pervading from a pitch black orifice underneath red slits for eyes makes breathing near impossible.

Never mind, I don't want to die! I'm too scared...

I closed my eyes, in fear, silently hoping someone would get me out of this. Even if they wouldn't, I hoped that I won't have to witness my perish.

Wait, what is hope?

When I opened my eyes, eventually, I found that I wasn't dead, but was founding myself getting impossibly... close with this thing. I had my arms wrapped around its hooded neck, and was leaning my chest forward, my body composed into a rather suggestive position. I screamed inside that I shouldn't be doing this, yet couldn't stop as it felt like I was being driven by this invisible, unknown force. One hand snaked up to trace its mutilated face, as the other undid its hood, exposing a disheveled head of rough hair that I found my uncontrollable fingers raking ever so idly. My heart was pounding in fright, afraid of what would happen if the erotic inducement that that I guess was supposed to save my life actually worsens the situation. My hips danced back and forth against its hollow body, as it dropped the scythe to crawl its gaunt fingers upon me like a spider. Those hands felt like sandpaper, and cragged nails dug into my back. I fought very hard to swallow the vomit that arose in my throat. I couldn't stop, or escape, because I was like a marionette- my every move controlled by this mysterious puppeteer.

"You are not going to take me yet, are you?" I purred lasciviously, tipping its grubby chin as I leaned over to meet its gaze, "What, I'm not worth the wait?"


And it was all over.

Regaining consciousness, I managed to move an arm with my own might and saw that I was no longer possessed. Relieved, but still panting heavily, I recalled the most horrifying nightmare I have ever had. What made it so is that it was too realistic- the sirene's singsong, the bestial whore, the reaper, everything. I remember so vividly of being scared out of my mind. Looking at such a monster was nightmarish enough, let alone being forced to seduce it.

I don't want to die anymore, if the experience of it is going to be that frightening.

But then again, I suppose Death is no longer of worthy of taking me, as I have transcended its ultimate seduction. I am now something greater, or worse, than It...


All the senses I had were replaced with fear and paranoia after I sobered up, and reinterpreted what happened the night before with a sane mind. The echoes of that possessive laughter rang through my head, like a broken record, until my migraine became unbearable. The trails of where those icy fingernails clawed me burned like a relentless fire, leaving me to feel helplessly naked, still.

He could be anywhere, lurking in the shadows, watching me with those thirsty eyes, waiting to strike again. To rob me of my pride as he would break me like a rag doll, hit me like a disobedient slave, and torment every last fibre of my being until I'd be my knees, begging for mercy.

I found it hard to perform my duties during the day, and to keep my eyes shut at night. I was fiendishly, insanely frightened. I would curl up alone in the darkness, scared of breathing, or even moving an inch, paranoid of every second that the clock ticked by as a possible time for him to leap out of the shadows. So, one night, when the self was at the breaking point of restlessness, I decided to take a walk. A wrong decision, however.

"If I didn't feel safe in the comfort of my own home, what made it even more safe to be walking down the abandoned streets of town at the dead of night?" It didn't make sense to me, but then again, nothing did.

With no stars and no moon, staring up at the pitch black sky was like meeting my mortal doom. A sudden harsh gust of wind disrupted my delight of the crisp, refreshing air as I walked into the forest. A sharp tree branch that the wind carried cut my face, though I at first thought it was... something else. I kept on walking nervously; a small seed of disturbance was planted inside of me.

But the seed grew every time I heard something move in the bush, or a rustle of tree leaves, a raven cackling in the distance, or anything else that disrupted the tranquility. Mere strolling became running, and eventually I was sprinting at such a fast pace that I feared my legs might shatter.

All of that stopped when I felt something obstruct my foot's progression, thus losing balance. My whole body slammed on to the ground, as sharp sticks and rocks on its uneven surface stabbed me. I cursed under my breath, and wiped myself clean with bloody palms, wanting to go home.

But I wished I hadn't looked up...

Those demonic, acid-yellow eyes, emitting the petrifying gaze that told me I might as well strip naked and buckle my knees down right then and there.

I couldn't move, or avert my thoughts into thinking about anything else other than who was standing in front of me. I felt weak, as if I was being liquidated into the acid yellow, yet was as stiff as stone from the fear that that he might hurt me again. Orochimaru's figure held that same ethereal demeanor I had unmistakably perceived through drunken eyelids. I knew what he was about to do. Again.

Without words, he grabbed the collar of my shirt, jerked my jacket off, and pulled me close to completely hook me once again into the lure of those mesmerizing, greedy orbs, that sweet scent of his hair, the sensation of the chilly, but nevertheless temperate hand trailing up my neck to undo the elastic that held my hair together. It's all happened to me before, but never did he tempt me this effortlessly, as I would always make some sort of struggle. Perhaps fear had dissolved my might to stand up for myself, or maybe Orochimaru hadn't shown the full extent of his seducing abilities. Either way, it proved to be highly successful. Before realizing that I was supposed to be scared of him, I found my fingers curiously crawling upon the small of his back, like an arachnid exploring new, yet familiar grounds.

"I know you still want me," He whispered salaciously, my skin tingled at his raw breath.

"N-no I don't," I heard myself mumble. I took my hands off and stepped back, away from him, just to reach a dead end of a tree. I fell on the uneven ground.

"Yes you do." He stated simply yet arrogantly, walking up to me,"I can make you wet yourself in desire."

He bent down, peeling off the only thin barrier between me and those eager hands. He dug his razor-sharp nails into my arm, drawing out little sanguine beads, as the other plunged into my bosom, squeezing one with such an uncanny force, as if wanting to disintegrate it. My heart pounded against its ribcage, breathing heavier and heavier air with every inhale until I felt lightheaded and wanted to faint. But Orochimaru wasn't ready for me to collapse just yet, as he shoved me deeper into the tree. Its coarse bark pressed into my bare back, lighting up my numbed mind immediately to the new source of shock. He added his mouth into the mix, teasing the tip of my chest with a wet tongue and finally delving in with his teeth. It hurt so much, yet felt orgasmically good.

Not even giving me a chance to settle, his hands aimed for a new target. Abandoning my ruined chest, they progressed downwards to clutch my legs like two pincers, and ripped them open in such a violent way that I shrieked- mainly from the exposure. Undoing and tearing away all obstructions, his lips twisted into a lewd smile as he found the new little soft plaything.

I felt like I've just been set on fire. Every last cell in my body squealed in pleasure, as every finger flick he gave fueled the flagrant flame from a whimsical sparkle into an infernal monster. When I could not possibly contain myself anymore, I lunged forward into his arms with the strength I didn't know where my weakened self could have acquired. It threw both of us onto the ground, where I was mounted on top of him, looking into his expectant, though calm eyes, panting haggardly from the ecstasy.

"More," I growled inadvertently, the demon within me agreed with zeal.

"You liked that, didn't you?" His cool voice asked, as I recovered slowly from spinning in a trance

"No..." I whimpered nervously, looking away, embarrassed. I immediately slid off of him and looked around to find my jacket. Though every other part of my body except my voice were screaming the exact opposite answer.

"No?" He repeated, sounding falsely perplexed, when I was just about to walk to my destination.

I felt something snake around my waist gently, stopping me, as his words slithered into my ear, "I can very well break you again, if that is what you'd like."

"I wouldn't like that." I said quickly, twisting my neck in the other direction, wanting my sight to be a little less yellow.

"Yes you would," His tone suddenly harshened without warning, abandoning the previous gentle purrs. His true nature unveiled through those words. Then came a force from my behind that drove me front first viciously back into that same tree. I tried to scream for help, but found that my screams were muffled with a cold hand slapped upon my mouth.

"Look at me, you whore." He hissed, wrenching my shoulders around so that I am face to face with this beast that I was afraid to accept was Orochimaru.

He wasn't smiling anymore, nor did he look mad. He never looked mad, but would always stay still when I expected him to. Though I would have thought he looked like a refined marble statue, if it wasn't for this intense, vehement gaze emitting from his eyes. I would have died right there, if glares were meant to hold such a power. With no strength left to open my mouth, I let him continue with things.

He drew me into his arms, and vainly folded them to make a fragile enclosure. I could liberally escape, but he, and I, was sure that for my life and lust's sake, I wouldn't. His neck loomed over, perching gently on my already injured shoulder. I wondered why he would do that after such an episode.

"You will one day get on those wobbly little knees and beseech me to give you the minimal amount of attention that you do not deserve." He whispered hoarsely into my ear, though his tone was a little more gentle than before.

"I don't need you to give me anything," I spoke coldly, somehow no longer afraid of him.

"Oh?" He questioned naively, "Standing up to me now? What a surprise, coming from a little bitch that was just imploring me to lavish my affection on her..."

"More, more," he mocked, in an attempt to imitate my voice.

I clenched my fists, feeling hazardous anger beginning to stir in my womb. Then it suddenly ignited, as I made no attempt to restrain it, and immediately set ablaze every last bit of equanimity I had. I knew I must defend my pride this time, at all costs, though he would always manage to degrade it effortlessly.

"You know what?" I started, some time later.

"Well, I do know everything except why you must foolishly fall into your own trap every time..." He answered delicately, pulling me closer to him like a lover would. But I no longer was in the mood for faked sweetness.


God I hate him so much.

I hate how he always would make me seem like a pathetic weakling.

I hate how he loves to see me in pain.

I hate how he can easily control me to do his bidding, and that I can't stand up to him.

I hate how he would make me feel so miserable under his sadism, whilst he would cackle until his heart's content at the laughing stalk I was.

And most of all, I hate myself for having this preposterous, yet unconditional lust for this son of a bitch. I relished in his sensual treats, yet somewhere deep inside moaned even louder in delight when he would make me suffer.

He has turned me into a pitiful masochist, whom even I despise. There is no status lower and more deplorable than having to beg to be hurt. I have become exactly that.


"I hate you." I told him, growling through painful clenched teeth. I shrugged off his embrace stubbornly, and blood gushed out from where I dug my angry nails into my palms. The overwhelming silence after my declaration made it possible to even hear the pitter-patter of the crimson liquid dripping maliciously onto the ground.

An amused, though heartless laughter he eventually gave shattered the quietude that was building much of a pandemoniac rampage inside of me. My head shot up just to see that grin creeping on his face once more.

"I mean it," I whispered spitefully, trying to furrow my brows as much as possible to make me seem serious, "I will kill you someday, to avenge the utter embarrassment you have cursed upon me."

It somewhat worked, at least the his sneering subsided, replaced by a strangely void and deadened countenance.

"Very well," he finally stated monotonously, "In that case, Konoha won't be standing on its feet for much longer." Though his tone lost its ardour, I heard him very clearly.

"What did you say?" I shouted, for confirmation. But, I was already talking to his back facing me.

He turned around, and gave a cold chuckle, "I had really loved you." He said nonchalantly, as if he didn't mean anything at all.

And I watched his graceful figure disappear into the darkness.

Those were the last words he ever said to me.


His army attacked early next day, before I even had a chance to warn the authority about what Orochimaru had foretold. Their clash upon the village was successful, as the element of surprise was on their side. We fought bravely, but stood little to no chance against their merciless ways. They did almost anything possible that would have aided them in grasping a quick victory. Cannons bombarded what used to be a peaceful settlement, and the ground was littered with maimed bodies, discarded weapons and... blood-

Blood flowing out as streams from their dead or dying hosts, into wider, vast rivers, until it eventually filled every last cavity on the ground, so that Konoha became one roaring crimson sea. Its smell was nauseating, and the monstrous cannon explosions brutally raped my poor eardrums. "Our village is going to fall anyways," I thought, "So there is no point for me to join in the chaos." For some strange reason, I just didn't feel as patriotic as I once did.

Besides, I had other affairs that needed to be taken care of.

"I will only take one life today."


Driven by hate, invigorated by fury, I shot through the mess like a fiery bullet upon rethinking of the agony he had afflicted upon me. I was ambitious to find Orochimaru, to sever him limb from limb, to make him bleed for me, for once. I couldn't see where I was going, or if I gained any injuries from the sharp objects splattered across every last corner of the field. All of those shameful times when he humiliated and tormented me flashed before my eyes, blinding me. Despite the thunderous clamour of pure destruction on the most massive scale, all I could hear were his laughter, his taunts, and those cloyingly sweet words that lured me like a naïve lamb into a wolf's hunger.

I just kept on going, bullheadedly ignoring my aching stomach, as a side effect from the adrenaline and rage. I did not allow it to heave down the momentum of my legs pumping up and down at breakneck speed. I didn't care that by doing this was like jerking my jacket open and making my heart an easy target for the other enemies, as I had my own to demolish.

I ran until I could run no more, due to a sudden stabbing pain erupting from one of my legs. I sat down immediately, on the wet ground, to observe. Giving a grunt of frustration, I jerked the mysterious knife out as blood spat out and onto my face like a fountain. My chest hurt even more than my leg, from the inability to match the impulsive speed in which I was traveling. It felt like being under the pressure of a meat grinder- I couldn't breathe, as if there wasn't even enough room in my ribcage to sustain the size of my organs, let alone spacious air. My brain became lethargic because of that, and so did the rest of me.

Just when I lost hope in ever finding Orochimaru, a pair of slim legs appeared before me, blocking my sight. My heart managed to tackle open its jail cell of a ribcage in sudden agitation of who this person might be, as my mind immediately resurfaced from the swamp. Being barely able to do so, I managed to look up and was confirmed that it was indeed... him. There was no mistaking that manipulative smirk, the elegantly-kempt tresses of hair, and the eyes that could pry into one's most unfathomable ocean of thoughts, leaving them exposed and violated.

I could have been hypnotised, but not this time. Closing my fingers around that knife that was previously lodged inside my leg, I stood up and my eyes found it a new aim- him. It didn't matter what part of his flawless body it penetrated, as my mind was not lucid enough to process such things as precision.

Gathering all the strength I could muster, I dashed forward, and threw my arm (along with the knife) towards what I believed was his figure, desperately hoping that it would result in at least one little cut.

But, like the numerous fights we had previously taken part in, he dodged, though this time with a strange new agility. Consequently, my body was thrown almost to the point where I lost balance. Regaining stance, I readied myself for another hopeless attempt. I wasn't even sure whether my desire of wanting him dead was truly sincere, as me heart softened once again seeing his beguiling charm. Thankfully, there was no way I could bring my person to kill him being in such an exhausted, blinded state.

"I don't want to take his life, I just can't."

That puny thought, sadly, did not convince me as a whole.

I launched my weapon once more, but silently scolded myself before it even reached its impending destination about its bad angle. Maybe it was just my paranoia coming back, but much to my surprise, his reflexes used to dodge this strike seemed less sharp than before. The miss, therefore, managed to have been just one sliver not as far-fetched than the last.

Another stab came, and this time my knife crept a bit closer. Then another, and another, as his urge and want to escape my attacks deteriorated. The expressionless composure he held never faltered, even being stuck in a such tense situation with his army at war, plus having to deal with my multiple endeavours to slay him. He would have at least said something, but didn't. There wasn't one trace of fatigue on his face, as if everything, even his worsening movements, was well-tucked under control. I, on the other hand, was growing deathly tired. If the deed wasn't finished quick enough, I was afraid that I might collapse.

But my weary body would not cooperate, as the attacks became more blunt.

He didn't seem one bit weakened, but I was more than ready to have my consciousness taken by the roaring cannons and deafening screams, the disgusting stench of blood and sulfur, the metallic clangs of metal meeting metal, and his phantom image standing as vexingly still as an alabaster statue right in front of me...

I might as well just faint, and be devoured by the mayhem.

But no... Never again will my conscience ever bring myself to do this again, though I know I must seek vengeance. There is no better time than now!

Forcing myself back on my feet with much effort and grabbing the dropped weapon, I threw it with all my might at what I believed was his heart. The blade shot out from my fingers, with the bitter hate I felt for Orochimaru embedded deeply in it. In an instant my soul was pried apart in two- one half cheering for it to penetrate its target, and the other praying that it would miss again, crying in regret that such an angelic creature should not be tainted by foul blood.

He stayed rigidly immobile with his eyes closed. His face was completely blank, with no sign of restlessness, or tensity written on the pallid, unwrinkled surface. Quiet and receptive, with an ebony veil of gentle hair as light as breath curtaining broad shoulders and a bosom, he was the very personification of Beauty, unrivaled by any other. It was imbrued, however, when the streams of sickening red spewed from where my knife pierced him squarely in the chest. No fuss, no struggle, he fell, like an angel, into the bloody ocean. Its hungry depths feasted upon his purity, his snow-white, making him no more than the lowly mortals whose lives were also drowned in oblivion.

"I had really loved you."

"What have I done?" I asked myself, and still do, to this day.


No, he didn't, he never did, he wouldn't have. Not after what I did to him. It was all in my head. To hell with, "he still loves me till this day- 'till the last wisp of breath escaped from his lips!" Knowing his power-hungry, controlling, heartless self, there couldn't have been one ounce of possibility that he did, that he would have been capable of such an emotion. Yet I cannot determine with a mind that has not a modicum of reason why he allowed himself die in the hands of a powerless me. Though one thing is for sure, I don't deserve to live, as I am pathetic enough to kill the very thing that I lived for, yet am too scared to die after that... ordeal. The choice I must make between a desolate life, and horrible death is clawing, prying, wrenching me into pieces.

"She's in here," I heard Iruka say, but kept my eyes closed and pretended to sleep, not wanting to speak with him, with anyone. But he is not alone. Coming towards me are not only the lighter taps of his footsteps, as if he feels nervous and uncertain, but laden thumps made by another pair of heavier, more assured feet striding along the wooden floorboards.

"She won't remember anything," says another unknown voice, it had more of a guttural, growling quality to it, "As long as you are willing to keep her away from anything that may trigger these unwanted memories."

"Yes."

With a flash of light, I felt as if everything I ever acknowledged were being sucked from my ocean of thoughts, into this black hole. I tried to retrieve them by declaring mental battles to try and remember, to try and gather every speckle of memory that kept on escaping my desperate, but nevertheless feeble grasp. At first, I was able to retrieve bigger chunks of these random flashes of when I first met Orochimaru, of the countless nights I spent in his cradle, of when he died. Those were my only precious remnants of him, and my only last source of existence. I mentally held on to them for dear life, only to have them disintegrate into faint, scrawled embers, right in my very arms. When they eventually died as well, my heart did the same. All there was left was obscurity, anticipating to to consume my carrion remains. I anxiously tried to pry open my previously closed eyes with great effort until clenching pain arose, but to no avail. I desperately tried to reach my arms to explore my surroundings, only to lose balance as my whole body splattered on the ground. I forlornly tried to venture back hoping to recall at least one last speckle remaining from my evanesced memories, to find at least one minuscule source of light, of hope.

But I forgot...

how to remember...

Fin.


So, this is the end. Please, do congratulate me on my first finished fanfiction. I am very proud of this, though I did let slip many apparent mistakes throughout the work, and the last chapter was extremely difficult to write. I really have put my heart and soul into the story, and I hope it shows... The sequel will be posted soon, as soon as I finish writing it, that is. Yes, there is a continuation to this story, no matter how final the ending feels like.

I sincerely thank all my readers, who have helped me follow through with this. (Though I do lean towards some, more than others. :P You know who you are, I think.) I wish the interest will still be there when the sequel is published!

And lastly, PLEASE REVIEW. It's the last chance to speak your mind.

Cheers,

Rekkuza.