Post by Murakami Gokudo on Jun 11, 2015 21:27:16 GMT -7
[attr="class","iconimage"] What is it that you're seeing? ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ It looks incredibly exciting! |
| Another cold night in the ruins of Yukigakure. That never changed. All that could be seen for miles were white snow and mountains. The stars hid behind a blanket of thick clouds, and not even the moon's glow could break through. White fluff gracefully floated from the sky, adding to the sheet of snow already covering the ground. It wasn't coming down heavily, but enough to become a danger to anyone stranded in the cold, unforgiving wilderness of the North. The air was cold enough to bite a man's skin, and if left for too long, it could cost them a finger, or a toe. It was dark. As though somebody had turned off the lights in a windowless room. The only light came from a cave near the ruins of Yukigakure. A cave that had been occupied for years now, but to nobody's knowledge. A small, orange light emanated from the entrance. Not enough to notice from a distance, but it made the cave entrance visible to those who may happen to walk by. Deep within the cave, a fire burned brightly, illuminating the cave brightly, and warding off the harsh cold that insisted on entering. At the back of the cave sat a man. His clothing was riddled with tears, and skin beneath had been cut. In some places, dangerously deep. His left eye was swollen shut, and his right leg was very clearly broken. A small lump could be seen on his shin, hidden by the pants that covered his lower half. It was probably a bone, sticking clear out of his flesh. At the front of the cave were his weapons and tools. Even his flak jacket, and forehead protector. The protector bared the symbol of the Sand, Sunagakure. There the frightened shinobi sat, tied to a chair. The rope was clearly too tight, as his fingers were going purple from a lack of blood circulation. Beneath the chair was a pool of blood, and the pool only grew with every drop that fell from this man's body. The captured shinobi glanced over to the front of the cave. He could see his gear. All of his weapons and his tools. He could only hope that he could find a way to get to his gear, so that he could escape and run from this prison. His one open eye glanced over to the wall of the cave opposite his gear. Two bodies lay there, tangled together as though they were just tossed there like animals ready to be strung up and butchered. Probably the other two teammates of his. His eye shifted back to his equipment, and he began to formulate a plan in his head. "Oh, what's this?" Murakami asked, though he wasn't looking for an answer. Even if he were, it wasn't like he could receive one. He had taped the shinobi's mouth shut. "Oh, no! You want to leave already?! You can't leave just yet! We haven't even gotten to the main event yet!" Murakami spoke with such enthusiasm. As though he were genuinely excited for what was to come. A smirk grew across his face. "I promise! It'll be a blast!" Murakami's coat waved with each step as he walked towards the shinobi tied to the chair. His smirk hadn't faded a bit. His messy, dark hair shifted each time a foot his the ground. Once he approached the shinobi, he inched his right hand towards the man's mouth, and grabbed the tape between his pointer finger and thumb. "This is probably going to sting a bit." Murakami warned the shinobi, still smiling. He slowly began to tear the tape off, taking in the grunts of pain that shinobi let out as the tape pulled the skin on his lips. With each grunt, Murakami's smile grew larger. Finally, the tape had been removed. The shinobi's head fell back, and he began to lick his lips, in an attempt to stop the stinging sensation. The smile on Murakami's face vanished. "Stop that. It's disgusting. You look like a dog preparing to eat a juicy steak." The man stopped at once, and his one open eye had been locked onto Murakami's face, anticipating what may happen next. His eye began to water, and a few tears escaped, running down his cheek. The situation was dire for this shinobi, and all he could think about was how these were most certainly his last moments in the world of the living. All he could think about was how his partners died. Slow, painful, agonizing deaths. He knew that this man who stood before him enjoyed it. He enjoyed watching their eyes fill with pain and sorrow before their lives finally slipped away, granting them mercy. The shinobi was bound to meet the same fate. A terrifyingly painful end to his life. He'd never get to see his wife or daughter again. All because they had decided to take a detour, and go the long way around, in an attempt to catch their targets off guard. Never in a million years did they think somebody would be here, living in the ruins of Yukigakure. Somebody as cold, and broken as the man that stood before him. Murakami smiled once more. "Wow! Where are my manners? My name is Murakami. But you can just call me Akumu!" "Aku... mu?" the shinobi repeated. He struggled to speak. "Yes! Akumu! What's your name?" The shinobi looked at Murakami. He was incredibly confused, but he responded anyways. "Um... Hideki." "Hideki, huh? Well, Hideki. You know those ruins outside the cave? You must have passed through them! I assume you came from Sunagakure, afterall!" The Sand Shinobi nodded, confirming Murakami's assumptions. "Well! That was my home!" Murakami stated softly, and his smile immediately vanished again. "That was my damn home! Beneath that rubble lie the bodies of my family! My mother! My father! My brother and sister! All of them!" His voice grew louder and louder with each sentence, to the point where he was nearly yelling. "It's your fault! All of you shinobi are poison to this world! Every single one of you!" Murakami stopped shouting. He took a deep breath in, calming himself down. It took him a moment to get himself back under control, but he did. His body loosened once again, and he took a step back. A smirk surfaced once again. Murakami rose his right hand up, grasping the eye patch that hid the eye beneath it. Murakami lifted the eye patch up, revealing a red eye, with black patterns surrounding the iris. Murakami leaned in slightly, giving the shinobi a better look of his eye. "Cool, huh?" Murakami asked, tricking the shinobi into looking at his eye. The shinobi's one eye glanced into Murakami's odd, red eye. From that moment on, it was too late for this man. There was no stopping it now. For him, the cave began to shift. The man's eye grew wide, and his body began to shake. He began to flail about, attempting to run away. He was still tied there, and he couldn't get away. He began to scream. His voice tore through the air. "Ah. Shit! Can't have you bringing unwanted guests here!" Murakami stated, as he shoved a piece of cloth into the shinobi's mouth, muffling his screams. Murakami then stepped back. With a giant grin on his face, he watched as the events unfolded before this shinobi. "Oh! Oh, my! What is it that you're seeing, I wonder? It looks incredibly exciting!" Murakami's grin grew ever larger as he watched the shinobi struggle. Tears streamed from his only open eye like a river that had just broken free. Saliva emerged from the cloth, and ran down his chin as he continued to flail about and scream. "My, how exciting! How very exciting!" Murakami stated to himself, before he began to laugh. He was having a blast. The time of his life. It was always quite enjoyable to see these people live their worst nightmares. "This never gets old! I only wish I could see it through their eyes!" Finally, it seemed as though the nightmare was coming to an end. The Sand Shinobi began to settle down. The muffled screams had stopped, and his body had stopped flailing. He was shaking though. Violently. As was to be expected of somebody who had just lived through their worst nightmare. Murakami moved up towards the shinobi tied to the chair. He gazed at the shinobi, his eyes wide as though he were pleasantly surprised. "You're alive! This is fantastic news! You have one strong mind!" Murakami stated as he removed the sword from its sheath. Murakami glanced down at the katana he now held in his hand. "Well, Hanketsu! I guess you get to taste the blood of a shinobi tonight, afterall!" As he spoke to his sword, he raised it up, gently placing the tip on the shinobi's chest. The shinobi was exhausted, and his face was soaked in his own blood and sweat. He began to grunt once more, realizing that this was it. The end of his life. He screamed as loud as he could, but the cloth muffled it all. He tried to shake free, but the ropes would not budge. Murakami gazed into the one open eye of the shinobi, and slowly began to push the sword into the chest of the shinobi. Slowly, it pierced through the skin, splitting the bone as it inched closer to his heart. The shinobi screamed and flailed, until the blade of the sword reached his heart, entering it, and halting its rhythm. Murakami could hold in his laughter anymore. He stared directly into the open eye of the shinobi, laughing as he watched the life slip away. And when it had gone completely, Murakami removed the sword from the shinobi's chest. A stream of blood gushed from the chest quickly, and then stopped. Murakami swung the blade hard, and the blood on the blade hit the wall of the cave before Murakami sheathed the sword. He reached up with his right hand, grasping the eye patch that was flipped up on his head, and flipped it back down, covering the eye once again. He glanced back at the body once more. "Now. Where should I display these?" @tag | 1721 | I enjoyed this way too much |
MADE BY VEL OF GS
