I pressed the ragged cloth that was once a pair of pants against my leg in a rather pathetic attempt to stop the now profuse bleeding. It had been soaked through within the first two minutes of receiving my injury, and for some reason, I still expected it to help me. All I was doing now was assuring myself some sort of infection. I tried to tell myself that it was working, and that I wasn't getting a headache from the blood loss, and that I wasn't beginning to see odd colors and shapes and…
I shook my head violently. If I passed out now, that would be it. I'd lose consciousness, and probably my life. And let me tell you; dying in the cold, stone cell that I called my own wasn't exactly high on my wish list. No one would notice if I died here, not until my body drained itself through this blasted cut, and rats and bugs came to feast on my rotting flesh. It'd be a few days before anyone realized I was gone. They'd come in for my weekly examination, and rather than finding me counting cracks on the wall like usual, they'd find a rotting corpse that the rats had already picked their way through.
I suppose that would be a nice way to pay them back for all the crap they've been giving me over the past few months. and Nova would certainly be upset to find that they could no longer play with their little test subject. "What could they do to me after I'm dead?" There wouldn't be anymore pain… "They wouldn't be able to do anything to me, un…" I whispered, and an absolutely insane feeling swept over me. If my life depended on it, I could never describe to you how absolutely mad I felt. No matter how hard I tried to suppress it, a smile broke out on my face.
Now, when the metal door to my cell swung open, that should have been an indication for me to seriously attempt to calm down. What happened instead, however, was that it sent me completely over the edge. I began laughing. Laughing, and laughing, and laughing…
One of the guards from outside approached me and slapped me across the face. But no, that didn't stop it, either. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me onto my feet, cursing at me. Something should have clicked in my mind to tell me that I was in danger. Rather, I found myself gasping for breath. He punched me in the stomach, and my body jerked forward. Another punch, and I was on the ground trying to breathe.
Noticing that his attempts were futile, he spat at me and muttered some sort of profanity under his breath before exiting the room and slamming the metal door of my cell behind him.
"Looks like they put me with a madman." At the sound of another humans voice, my head snapped up and I was able to cease my laughing long enough to observe the person sitting in front of me. The blood dripping from his mouth was almost the same color as his hair. He sat in the corner of the room, watching my every move. Typical. No different from everyone else they threw in here. I pulled myself onto my feet and approached him. When he showed no indication of being uncomfortable, I smirked.
"What's your name, un?" I inquired, poking him in the middle of the forehead. He scowled at me, but said nothing. "Aren't you going to answer me?" He stared at me, and just as I was about to give up, he sighed and grabbed my hand.
"Sasori. If you ever touch me again, I'll snap your fingers off." I looked into his eyes to see how serious he was. No indication of fear, confusion, concern…anything. Rather, I saw boredom, and something that told me he wasn't joking.
I smiled at him and pulled my hand away. "My name's Deidara, un."
He was going to be fun to mess with.