Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Spiral of Darkness ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

A/N: This is something I started while still in high school when working at a summer camp. I am caught up on the manga, so I'm well aware that this is completely AU.

This pretty much completely disregards anything after chapter 310 of the manga.

Warnings: torture, mentions of yaoi, mpreg, AU. If any of these things bother you, I'm not forcing you to read this.

Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters are property of Masashi Kishimoto and I in no way gain any value beyond the catharsis of writing.

 

Prologue: Pain

 

Pain ran through his body like liquid fire, searing every nerve in his arms and chest when he tried to breath. Every time he coughed, blood would bubble up, meaning that the rib that had pierced his lung had moved just enough for the organ to begin to fill with the crimson fluid, slowly choking him a little more every second. More of the life-giving fluid ran down his arms from numerous injuries and his wrists were soaked in blood and rust, the manacles around his wrists digging into the raw wounds with every twitch of his body. His long hair was matted to his back, chest, and face, stinging almost as much as the sweat running into his wounds and strands clung together, hanging in dirty clumps. His eyes were closed, as if he were sleeping, hiding the damage done to those once opalescent orbs. Where his pupil-less eyes had once been a beautiful ivory, they were now the color of fresh blood, three, comma-like, black marks spaced evenly around each pupil. Thin scars at the edges of each eye were the only signs of those eyes not being his, the only sign that his had been removed against his will.

 

The sound of the door opening reached his ears, his body shrinking despite the pain betraying his awakened state, and two figures entered, one of them reeking of blood, the other of dead fish and salt water. A small whimper escaped his throat as the one that smelled of blood came closer, his footsteps echoing loudly in his ears. Long, slender, cold fingers pressed into his face and twisted, forcing his eyes to open and reveal the implantations that had replaced his eyes. Scarlet clashed with scarlet and the cold man smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards just slightly.

 

“By not removing the veins that formed half of the Byakugan and implanting the Sharingan, you now carry the genes for both,” he whispered, staring deeply into the mesmerizing eyes. “Our blood is similar enough that my dear little brother's eyes will not reject you, but you will never be able to turn the Sharingan off, ever. Once we begin the next part of the surgery, we will have an interesting new ability to show the world, an ability that will set you free of your family and the rank they have forced upon you.”

 

He reached up and traced the bloody segment of skin that had once carried his curse seal, the still-healing mess the only sign that the seal had ever been there. Then, while the young man coward against the wall he was chained to, the older leaned forward, dipping his head just slightly, and licked the still wet blood from the wound, his eyes falling closed in such a way that he resembled a smug cat.

 

Then he released the teen and turned to his partner, gesturing towards the dying man. “Bring him to the medical wing. I will inform Tenshi that her favorite patient is due for his next session.”

 

The young man groaned as he was released from his manacles, his entire body going limp, unable to muster up enough strength to resist the rough handling of the fish-scented man. Cold air hit his naked body as he was dragged out of the cell, chilling him even further than he already was, leaving little doubt in his mind as to just how bad his condition had begun to grow. He was no medic-nin, but he could tell that he wouldn't survive the night in his state.

 

He could barely focus on anything as he was dragged towards the medical wing and the journey seemed to last both hours and seconds. As he was put onto the steel table in the medic-nin's room, he let the images of his friends and family consume his mind for just an instant, their faces clear, their voices distinct. The distant, slightly blurred memory of his father, sure and confident, enduring despite the fate he had been handed, stayed in his mind, the teen clinging to that image like a lifeline. That was the last face he wanted to see as he lay dying on the table.

 

“Oh, the poor thing,” a woman's overly sugary voice cooed, talon-like nails tracing his numerous wounds lovingly. “He's so beat up. You know better than to be so rough with our toys, Itachi. This boy is much too important to us to let die.”

 

“Just heal him, Tenshi,” the cold man said flatly, his words sending shivers down the younger, prone man's spine. “We need…able to survive…couple of years and…kids, only. After…don't care.”

 

“I…know,” Tenshi replied airily as her soothing-yet-grating chakra began to pour into his wounds, mending the damage that had been done, both internal and external. “You…every time. Has the leader…who…yet?”

 

Silence was the only thing that the man could hear before, “I see…be too rough on him…don't want…redo all…hard work…over again.”

 

As the conflicting warmth of the healing spread through his body, Neji felt dread engulf his heart. Whatever they were talking about concerned him and, whatever it was, it didn't bode well for him, especially if they were healing him.

 

Darkness consumed his mind and he fell into oblivion, the words of the medic and his primary tormentor echoing in his mind.

 

*+*+*+*

 

They had found the body in the woods near the cave Shukaku had been removed from Gaara, bound in a preservation jutsu to stall decomposition. Nearly all of them had spent the first half hour after they had found the body puking, unable to look at the damage that had been done. All of the fingers in both hands had been broken, one arm twisted around in such a position that nearly every bone had to be shattered. Both legs were riddled with holes, long gashes that had to have released a river of blood when inflicted and the knees had been torn out, the entire structure, cartilage and all, gone. The stomach looked as if something with very long teeth had feasted on it, intestines and torn organs lying bared for all to see. The nose had been broken, as well as the jaw and the entire right side of the face was one long piece of swelled, bloodied flesh.

 

But, what really caused even the hardened ANBU to react were the eyes: the sockets were empty, the lids shredded, and the area around the sockets had been torn open forcefully. Even without the large, charred hole in his chest, Sasuke Uchiha would never have served as a shinobi again, if he had survived his injuries.

 

When they brought the body back to the village and buried him, the scratched hitai-ate was clutched in the hands of his once teammate-turned-lover, Sakura Haruno, his sword in the hands of his other teammate, Naruto Uzumaki. Both stood at the funeral, silent and still, neither of them quite willing to believe that the teammate they had just gotten back was now dead.

 

It was a grey, wet day in Konoha the day the Last Uchiha was buried. Not a person smiled, every laugh was dead, hollow. The only person whose mind was not on the funeral was the Hokage, the very woman who had inspected the body upon its final return to the village.

 

The contents of the jounin's pockets had caused the blood in her veins to freeze and terror to well up in her soul.

 

That night, the moon and stars hidden behind a veil of heavy black clouds, Hiashi Hyuuga walked into the Hokage's office to find the Godaime Hokage sitting behind her desk. The head of the Hyuuga Clan approached her desk and folded his arms inside his sleeves. Tsunade met the Hyuuga's eyes for several minutes before gesturing towards the items displayed in the middle of her desk. Hiashi looked down and froze, his arms falling to his sides limply. A set of preserved, opalescent colored eyes rested on a pillow in front of Tsunade, a single lock of long dark hair the color of black coffee laid on the space in front of it. Her expression was solemn, much more serious than Hiashi had ever seen it, sending a feeling of dread surging through his body.

 

“Hiashi,” she said, her voice flat, strictly neutral. “I felt that you should be the first to know, seeing as your clan has their own way of dealing with these things.”

 

“The first to know of what, Lady Hokage?” Please don't let her say it, please. Her next words had the head of the Hyuuga Clan standing in the center of the woman's office, his gaze locked on the eyes that stared back at him, empty and lifeless.

 

“Neji Hyuuga has been captured by the Akatsuki.”

 

A/N: So, yeah. This story is one that I found on my computer and started cleaning up a bit and decided to post. I know that it's not happy and it's not going to get much happier anytime soon, as nothing I have written so far is even pointing towards happiness for a while.

 

I appreciate reviews, but don't demand them, so if you want to share your thoughts, great. If not, I understand. Later.