Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Have You Ever Seen The Rain? ❯ The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Ok. I said graphic, but I wasn't feeling for it. At all. So the end is a little different than the rest, but who knows? It may be even more fitting. And somehow, its almost exactly how I'm feeling right now. I need anger management. I have probs letting my emotions out. I can't cry no matter how sad I am, I just can't. The tears are there, but they won't come. I feel just a tad emo-ish right now...

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Naruto. It is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. Deidara's father is my own invention, a reincarnation of every sexually abused child's personal demon. The characters may not be real, but as much as we wish to ignore the fact, the situation IS real. There are children, some no older than a few months all the way up to young adults who are beaten and abused by others. Behind closed doors, in an alley, in the picture-perfect happy family. Everywhere. This is reality. It could have been you. If you yourself derive pleasure by abusing children, I hope your carcass rots and you are forsaken by every person you have ever known. I am not allowed to give names, but the events in this story are true (although not all to one case), based off of events that happened to several people I know. In a way, this is their story. They wanted to let the world know, for you to see things through your own eyes what life can be like. Some small parts are made up, but none of it is exaggereated.

Just remember. This story is bad, but in truth, it is nowhere near the lowest of the low.

“Daddy! D-d-daddy! Please…! Stop…” The pitiable sobbing reduced itself to a low whimper as Deidara was thrown against a wall into a corner of the room. Slumping to the floor, he held arms up in front of himself in a feeble attempt to protect himself. Not that that would help any.
“Please, don’t hit me…!” the blond child begged of his father through tear-sodden bangs. The man towering above him grinned in sudden malice.
“Don’t hit you, you say?” he questioned mockingly of his son, a sick glint in his cold eyes. Deidara’s blue eyes widened perceptibly, understanding now what his pleas would soon beget him, and he turned his face away. Only such a sick, perverted man as his father would do such a thing.
“No! N-n-no…! I didn‘t mean…!” Deidara whimpered as his father crouched in front of him, cupping the teen’s wet chin and turning the red face towards himself.
“Oh, but that is what you meant, isn’t it?” the man cooed. “Don’t tell me that you can’t make up your mind, Deidara.” The man’s large hand rubbed at his child’s red cheek.
Deidara struck out with a small fist, knowing he would be punished for that small act of defiance. His bruised knuckles smacked into his father’s chest before falling away. The man lowered his head and glared at the small boy he held fast to the wall.
“It’s not nice to hit people, Dei-chan.” His father taunted, tightening his grip on the front of the boy’s shirt. Deidara squirmed, breathing quickly and trembling against the wall. It was still thundering outside, the grumbling roll of rain-laden clouds seeming to match each beat of his pounding heart. An exceptionally loud clap of thunder caused him to startle, jerking against his father’s hold. Pulling back, he whimpered and leaned as far away as he could.
“Dei-chan, Dei-chan. Haven’t you learned?” the man sighed, his short sandy hair waving as he tilted his head. “You can’t get away. You can’t run. There’s nowhere to hide, really. And if you could, where would you go?” His voice was fervent, almost fevered in its mocking tones. It was the voice of a madman, seductive in its own way. It was a voice meant to make you believe what it was saying, to make you believe that there was no way out. The voice of insanity.
Deidara knew his father was mad. The man was obsessed with his dead wife, Deidara’s mother. He spoke to her as if she were still alive in his room after nightfall. He bought her gifts. He greeted her every morning. It was all kept away from his eyes, but Deidara knew it happened. He knew his father was stark, raving mad. All the more reason to fear Murasaki Tenkimaru.
“You can’t run, Dei-chan. Mommy won’t let you.” Tenkimaru kissed his son’s cheek, and then he kissed the other, despite Deidara trying to turn his head away from the soft caresses. The hand pushing him against the wall pulled and he found himself leaning limply up against his father’s chest as the man plundered his mouth. He knew better than to resist. He still had bruises from where his father had smacked him up against the wall the other night.
Hard lips crushed his, biting at them and mouthing. A thick tongue slid past his small teeth and probed far as it would go, sliding around and twisting in a mix of saliva. After long moments, his father pulled back. The man’s hand ran over Deidara’s hair and brushed the strands clinging to his sweaty forehead. Touching blond hair, relishing in the feel of soft skin, Tenkimaru could lose himself in the moment. His lips pressed to a forehead, a gentle and loving caress of genuine love. It did not matter that the small body resting in his arms was not her. For this moment, he touched her skin again, warm and fleshy and full of innocent life.
“Darla…” hot breath panted into the teen’s neck. “Darla…” Slowly, his hand slid up a thigh and rested lightly on Deidara’s waistband. Trembling with quick breaths and racing heart, Deidara felt the fabric being pulled away as the man moaned into his neck. Knowing it was the only way to silence his frightened gasping and moaning, he pressed his face hard into the man’s shoulder. If he did anything to break the man’s fantasy, pain was a promised outcome.
Sore ribs detested the hand that reached up to push against them as it pulled his hoodie and shirt from him. The cloth snagged on his chin, and Deidara twisted his head to the side to avoid having his head yanked. The man breathed deeply as he tossed the articles to the side to better focus on what he was doing.
________________________________________________________________ ______

Large hands with callused fingers glided over baby soft skin to faraway eyes lost in the past, fingers separating long blonde locks before gliding down to run over skin once again. The body underneath him was gasping and shuddering, unnoticed were the tears as Tenkimaru kissed a trail of light caresses along the underside of Deidara’s arm. Each little sound and acceleration of heartbeat was misinterpreted as the man’s mind became further lost in his fantasy.
Frightened whimpers were ignored, each kiss bringing a bout of tears. Nothing should ever be this way, but it was. To the sound of rain falling on the slated tiles of a roof, a man violated a child and reveled in it. Each thrust added another bitter tear to the growing cesspool hidden deep within, with each whispered phrase of dearth a twinge of smoldering anger brought itself a little closer to the surface. Every dam has a breaking point and once it is reached, everything is washed away in the resulting flood. All you can do is watch the growing cracks and hope its not too late.