Midnight Memories

I don’t own Naruto nor do I make money from it.



AN: I'm sorry for the wait. I've had a lot on my plate. This chapter is very dark. Please read with caution. You have been warned.



Warnings: Vampires, death, blood, blood drinking, cursing, necrophilia(Big Warning here: I hold nothing back in this chapter Don’t worry, it doesn‘t involve our main characters directly.)



Midnight Memories



Chapter Ten



October 2, 2009



“Breathe.” Naruto closed his eyes; a mixed feeling of dread and excitement coursed through him. Feelings of lightheadedness spiraled through him as if his blood was being denied the needed oxygen to survive. The heaviness in the air pressed down upon him with a nearly physical weight. Though something pushed to keep him away, he was unable to deny the pull towards something he had no words to describe.



The wood below his feet creaked loudly as he worked his way down the ramshackle stairway leading into the basement. The pull was strong. It reminded him of the sensation one felt when riding a roller coaster. Something was pulling his insides towards an unknown destination, leaving him breathless--tumbling through the dark into the unknown.



His hands fumbled for the light; yanking the cord. The single bulb flickered to life, the dust on the filament crackled loudly as illumination was spread across the basement. Dust coated boxed lined the enclosed room, their contents carefully packed away--unused and forgotten.



Naruto swallowed at the lump developing in his throat. There was a thickness in the air, similarly found in long abandoned tombs. It was more than just dust and age. A heavy feeling encompassed the very molecules of air--almost in warning. A sneeze built in his nose as the long unstirred dust particles rose to tickle along his nasal passageways and throat. Rubbing at his nose, he fought desperately to prevent the expulsion. His attempts were unsuccessful as his body doubled over--expelling the foreign material from his nose and throat in a series of violent sneezes.



Wiping the escaped saliva from his mouth, his eyes locked on the one uncovered wall. Small scratches marred the hard stone, as if someone attempted to claw their way through the brick. “What the fuck?”



His hands ran along the blood tinged scratches, looking for what the person was trying to do. There were better ways to escape a dark cellar than through a solid brick wall. To be desperate enough to tear apart their fingers in an attempt to scratch through a solid wall, he didn’t want to even consider the reasons for such madness. Itachi wouldn’t hurt anyone--he would never lock someone away in this basement.



A flash of pain rocketed through his brain, sending him crashing to the grown, rolling on the dirt covered floor. Small clouds of dust engulfed him, in no way comparable to the wave of pain rolling through his mind as long suppressed memories surfaced. He could taste the desperation on his tongue as his fingers clawed. He didn’t know why. All he knew was intense need. He was pure instinct. His body moved as if controlled by something far more instinctual. There was no rhyme or reason behind his motions--only need.



He moved, lost in the memory. His fingers began to scratch desperately at the stone. Something was here. He needed it. He lived for the connection it could provide. It was an intricate part of him, lost through space and time. No one would keep him from it. Were these his memories? Was the complete obsession his or another’s?



Sweat beaded on his brow, running in rivulets down his cheeks to splash in the stirred dust. His fingers bled, blood dripping from the digits to smear along the already stained stone. “Please.”



He needed to get through. It had to let him through. He would scrape his hands to the very bone in desperation. It was uncontrollable. They kept them apart. Who and why, he did not know. He only knew the desperation driving him. It came from his very core--pulled him deeper and deeper in the darkened madness. He was lost in its drive; a slave to the madness.



A wave of power pushed through his core, slinging him away from the wall and into a stack of dust covered boxes. The dull ache from his fingers in no way drew attention away from the desperation to tear down the wall keeping him out. Out of what? The rational part of his mind continued to question the actions his body took. The two parts continued to war with each other--each fighting for dominance over the other.



Struggling to his feet, he pushed aside the dizziness. The air was practically ripe with electricity. The single light bulb flickered wildly before shattering, sending tiny shards of glass to the dirt floor below. Darkness engulfed everything before the room seemed to give an almost shudder. A door now stood where once only brick was.



Silence reigned as he stepped towards the simple wooden door, glass crunching beneath his feet. The repelling force was gone, leaving only the desperate compulsion to pass through. His hand shook as he gripped the iron knob. It wasn’t fear. Excitement? What was behind the door to be excited about?



The hinges creaked loudly as he pushed through. The near pitch of the room prevented his eyes from focusing on anything. His hand patted along the wall in search of a switch. His very breath stilling in his throat as a low rumbled escaped from within.



“Hello?” His voice, barely a whisper, cracked as his eyes desperately attempted to adjust to the darkness. The room possessed no windows, not that it would have mattered. The lateness of the hour didn’t help his search, the only light being that shining down the stairs from the kitchen.



The small touch of light caught on something. Gleaming red eyes stared into his very soul, forcing memories that were not memories to the surface. Pain engulfed his head once more as nightmares best forgotten bubbled to the surface. They were nightmares haunting his dreamscapes. No…not true nightmares haunted by monsters. These were shards of lives, connected in an unbreakable chain of fate. No matter how much he fought, the dark eyed man of his dreams was left desolate and alone with his growing insanity.



Stumbling backward, he gasped as a weight pressed heavily on his body. His body collapsed to the floor under the weight, glass shards of the broken bulb cutting through the thin tee-shirt into the skin of his back. An animal? No. Fingers pressed to his throat, stroking the skin above his pulse. It had to feel the hammering of his heart through the skin. Was this his end, as violent and short lived as his dreams foretold?



“Do you seek to torment me?” The dry crackled words sounded thickly in his ear, causing his breath to rush forcibly from his lungs.



“I…” Why couldn’t he speak? Yell? Scream? He could feel the heated breath along his jaw, the lapping of a tongue along the faintly stubbly skin as teeth nibbled down the neck.



“You smell different.” The words did little to ease the mixture of fear and excitement rushing through him. His neck arched of its own accord, bearing itself for the sinful lips. He wanted to be devoured by the lips and tongue running along his throat. If he died tonight, it would be with a pleasure more powerful than any he’d experienced. The compulsion he felt to give every part of his being to this creature outweighed any thought of escaping. He wanted to live and to die. He wanted something his mind struggled to wrap its arms around. The weight of the darkness thickened as his hands lifted to embrace the creature at his neck.



The first scrape of teeth along his neck brought shivers of pleasure through him. A tongue replaced the teeth, lapping at the beads of blood brought to the surface. Each brush of the tongue sent pleasure through him, mingling reality with the high flowing through him. The creature above shuddered, fingers dug into the flesh of his arms as lips suckled hungrily at his throat.



The cry of pain released from previously frozen vocal cords couldn’t be stopped as teeth buried themselves in his throat. His body jerked wildly for a moment before stilling as pleasure rippled through him, ten times the previous sensation. This was perfection. This was what he’d been waiting for. This was the completion his mind had longed for his entire life. His hands lifted to clench at the creature’s--no, man’s waist; his mind going white as everything faded away leaving just the two of them. This was a meeting of significance to his very existence.



January 17, 1933

San Francisco, California



The darkened bar--hidden deep within the slums--provided the perfect atmosphere for dealings of the less than legal. Since the crash of the stock market in 1929, many people sought to ease their troubled minds with illegal imbibing of alcohol. If one knew where to look, a person could purchase a bottle of secretly brewed liquor for mere change. Of course, in the depth of the depression engulfing the world, money was a desperately desired commodity. One could eat for days on a dollar. While children starved on the streets, men such as the owner of this secret establishment made their profit off of the money of the desolate parents. What better way to survive this horror than to lose oneself in the siren’s call of alcoholic oblivion.



The black eyed man hidden in the darkest corner was not one you approached casually. Every night he sat, dark eyes gleaming with predatory menace. The owner of the bar--too afraid of retribution from him--pushed aside the desire to expel him from the shady establishment. It was saying something when the owner of such a dark and dangerous place took caution concerning an individual.



Even should he move on, people always found him. Those desperate enough always found him. Some nights he would spend the evenings staring at the customers with barely concealed distaste while other nights would be spent in the company of various individuals with whom he had business.



“They say you’ll kill people.” The tremor filled voice broke through the clank of glasses.



“So they say.” Sasuke smirked, his keen eyes taking in every small nuisance of the woman before him as she slid into the chair opposite his own. It wasn’t rare at all for a woman to seek his assistance. Some wanted freedom from abusive husbands. Some wanted revenge for past grievances. Some coveted their neighbor’s possessions.



“I want you to kill someone.” Her entire body was shaking as she reached for the glass of amber liquid his pale hands pushed her way.



“Why?” Despite her tremors, he could taste the determination in her. It was rare for someone so frightened to show such determination when faced with him. If he didn’t take the job, he was sure she would look elsewhere. Her lined face told him of her plight. What she wanted, he would gladly give.



“He…he killed my baby. T-They didn’t do anything. I don’t have a lot of money…” He had to snort at her statement. No one had money these days but criminals and bootleggers. Even the politicians in Washington were suffering the strain of the depression. Money was irrelevant. He considered what he did a service.



“It’s irrelevant. Tell me what he did. I’ll know if you lie.” Sasuke grabbed her calloused hand, feeling the life pulsing through her. Her suffering was great. Perhaps he should simply end it for her now. Her anger at her daughter’s murder was the only thing keeping her on this earth.



“That…monster. He killed her. I saw him watching her. Calculating eyes. Then she was gone. The police…they ignored me. They told me a missing girl wasn’t high on their list of priorities. She was only fifteen. I know it was him. I can see it in the way he looks at me. He knows I know and he knows there is nothing I can do about it. But you can. I‘ve heard rumors of the dark man who sits in the shadows.” Sasuke chuckled darkly as she finished her tale. She didn’t know a monster. She was currently speaking with one.



“His name?” Sasuke sat back, releasing her hand which she drew to her chest. She understood now. To kill a monster, she must employ someone just as monstrous.



“Kabuto Yakushi. He lives at 59 Devon Street. Please…please…” The desperation in her voice struck a cord within the lost parts of his soul. He knew such desperation. It haunted him every day. Every blond walking down the street brought him back to what he’d lost. Each lifetime, he wondered if it would be the last. Would Naruto stop coming to him. His own obsession made tracking him difficult.



He knew he was alive…and young--probably no older than eight or nine. He was having trouble targeting him…though it was a mute point. Fate was a strange creature. It forced them together in ways that were baffling and mysterious. It was only a matter of time before he bore witness to another death. For the last two hundred years, his sanity hung by a thread so thin.



“You wish for his death? Are you prepared to pay the cost to your own soul?” His words seemed to shock her out of her fear.



“What do you mean?” Her dry pasty skin seemed to loose the faint bit of blush remaining.



“I am a tool. It is you who bears the brunt of his death. If you wish his death, it is you who pulls the strings.” Sasuke smirked to himself as she wavered in her conviction. They always wavered. For a moment, his words appealed to their inner morality. They may wish the death of a vile individual. The world might be better off with out him. The question swirling around in their heads was a simple one. Was it their place to remove him from existence? If God and country deemed him suitable to remain on this earth, was it truly her place to take him from it?



“You seek to absolve yourself?” she asked, her pale blue eyes wide.



“No. My punishment is never ending. Do you wish his death on your conscious? That is the question at hand.” He watched with pleasure as her resolve increased.



“I want Kabuto Yakushi dead.” Her eyes burned with resolve.



“Fine. My payment is a favor.” He removed a medallion from his pocket. The metal was infused with his blood, allowing him to track it. “If anyone comes to your door bearing this symbol, you or your family is to welcome them. This payment doesn’t end with your life. Your debt is taken on by your children upon you death and your children’s children. The debt is paid when the medallion is taken from you. Do you understand?”



She nodded, accepting the small medal. “Make sure you family knows your debts upon your death should the debt not be collected.”



“I will.” Her whisper was barely audible.



“He’ll be dead before morning.” Sasuke stood, exiting the small bar with nary a sound. The massive exhale of both patrons and owners would have been amusing had he not business with a certain Kabuto Yakushi. Tonight he felt the burn of the bloodlust. This man’s death would likely have a brutal air to it. It was unavoidable. Blood was only bearable when it was taken from victims who fought him.



Since the day he’d killed Sai, news of his killer for hire business had spread. It was lucrative in more ways than one. Money was never an issue but a favor owed was a very lucrative commodity. He’d only collected a few. He wondered, what would Itachi say? He hadn’t seen his brother in twenty years. Of course, he would disapprove. Sasuke was a powder keg of dangerous proportions. Should his sanity be lost, he had no doubt he would be felled beneath his brother’s claws. I was all the more reason to keep his unsavory business unnoticed by the council. Already he felt their breath across the nape of his neck.



Ducking into an alley, he crouched before launching himself to the rooftops. His muscles bunched and lengthened, taking him over the rain damp buildings towards the more residential areas. He knew the area the woman spoke of. It was practically a slum. The houses were ramshackle, falling apart around the owners’ heads.



As he neared his destination, he noticed the pitiful shape of the buildings. They were bunched together almost as if seeking warmth from each other. It was obvious why the police avoided offering much assistance at the girl’s disappearance. In this part of town, the world ignored your existence.



The damp air flushed through his lungs as he paused to breathe in the crisp scent. Unlike most cities, this one retained a bit of the natural tone slowly fading from the land as the population steadily increased. As he breathed in the night, he caught a hint of blood in the air. The fresh coppery scent drew him, his eyes flaring red. It took all his strength to keep some aspects of normality in the presence of humans. It would not do to be hunted down as the monster he was.



Crouching, he honed his sharp senses on the trail. It was human. Perhaps the woman’s contract was just. The blood hung heavy in the air as he dropped behind his destination. A dull light rose from the built-in cellar. The metallic scent of blood settled on his tongue as he crept towards the wooden doors blocking the entrance.



He could smell the excitement rolling from his prey. It was sexual in nature, sending waves of disgust through him. He pushed back the repulsion, opening the doors silently. The other appeared too involved in his endeavors to notice the presence of another.



The room was practically a slaughter house. Hooks, saws, and knives hung from the blood splattered walls. The orange glow of the traditional oil lamps provided a macabre view of the actions of his prey and they disgusted him. It was hard to believe there was anything in this world to revolt a monster such as him.



Before him was his prey. He was not alone though Sasuke wished it was so. He wasn’t afraid of being caught as Mr. Yakushi was completely enamored with his rutting upon the corpse on which he lay. His naked body thrust back and forth, blood and fluids coating his body as the cold corpse beneath him flailed limply with each inward thrust. Only once in his existence had he ever seen anything such as what he witnessed now.



His eyes darkened to the color of blood as he watched the show presented before him. Sweat mixed with the odor of blood. The grunts coming from the man before him showed him lost in his own world.



The death of this man more than deserved. The corpse beneath him--its gender lost in the defilement--deserved better in its death than to be the rutting puppet for its murder’s lust. The squelching of skin against blood and fluid provided an audio accompaniment to the visual stimuli he was provided as he watched the actions of the man. Leaning against the frame of the door, he continued to watch as the man dug his fingers into the blood knotted hair of the corpse, his hips jerking wildly before the salty odor of semen joined that of sweat and blood. Breath panted in and out in rapid succession as a blood smeared brow dropped to bury itself in the neck of the defiled corpse. Disgusting.



Dispassionately, he watched and waited for his presence to be noticed. In fact, it added anticipation. He wondered just how long the other would be lost in his pleasure. He could hear the heartbeat slowing as he came down from an orgasmic high.



Sasuke smirked darkly as dark eyes met his own crimson orbs. Pale skin lost even more color as he stepped from the shadows. “Your proclivities veer very far from the norm, Mr. Yakushi.”



Of course, the man didn’t stop to converse. His very life was at stake with his darkest secret revealed to an outsider. His mind did not process the red eyes or pale skin. Sasuke could only shake his head in annoyance. As if this insect of a person could even stand a chance of killing him. Even in his slightly blood hungry state, the other stood no chance against him.



Perhaps the man realized this, choosing to fight all the harder for survival. It was beneficial to both. Sasuke received the benefit of heady blood while his prey would be able to die knowing he fought back with every bit of strength. Was it fair? No. No human could overwhelm him in a face to face fight.



A knife flashed in the dim light provided by the oil lanterns. The man was fast. The blade nicked his skin as he moved away from the slice. It appeared desperation gave Yakushi speed.



His hands shot out, throwing the man against the wall. His skull cracked as he landed, a sickening thud sounded through the room. In his dazed state, Sasuke drew him to his feet. The stench of sex on his skin was nearly revolting enough to forgo the meal in favor of the snapping of his neck. If he had not abstained from feeding for several days, he would have taken that option. As things stood, he needed the blood before he went feral. He’d learned the hard way when it came to feeding.



He didn’t bother offering final words to the monster he held in his grip. Such creatures were below even his accord. These drains on society deserved their fate. That thought was his final before burying his teeth deep in the blood smeared neck.



Warmth filled his mouth. The blood, tinged with the adrenaline of the fight, poured into him. It was a less than satisfying meal. It was becoming more and more difficult to find any sort of satisfaction with the meals he took from his victims.



Each pulse of the other’s heart pumped fresh blood down his throat in rapid succession. His lips increased the suction, pulling it deeper. The faster he finished his work, the faster he could leave this little slice of hell. So lost in his feeding, he did not realize the danger of one such as Kabuto Yakushi.



The danger with feeding to kill came from the victim. While feeding, a night walker was vulnerable. Their mind focused completely on the kill and nothing else. It pulled them into a haze of inescapable pleasure. Even Sasuke, who took no pleasure from feeding, was drawn into this haze. He did not realize the maniacal workings of this prey until the blade was plowed deeply into his side, nearly gutting him.



The influx of pain broke him from the feeding haze. Crying out, he jerked back to see the smirking face of his prey. Kabuto Yakushi’s last sight was Sasuke anger filled gaze before his neck was snapped with the ease of a twig. The other fell limply to the ground, his body jerking with the death spasms.



Sasuke spat to the ground, his hand palming the large slice in his abdomen. It hurt. The wound went deep. The prey had been quite cunning. One had to assume he’d thought to escape after wounding his attacker. Smart and foolish at the same time.



Leaving the cellar open, he stumbled onto the muddy ground. He needed to take care of his wound. He was bleeding a little more than he was comfortable with. His lack of feeding lately was working against him as he stumbled into the city. Few people walked the streets this late and those who did mistook his stumbling gate for that of a drunken man. He was ignored, which both helped and hindered him.



He could feel his body knitting itself together. The pain of rapidly healing flesh forced him to stop every few steps in order to keep from collapsing. He would not make it to his home before dawn.



Since the beginning of the economic depression, warehouses once filled to the brim with surplus goods stood empty along the shore. He chose one of the more rundown as a place to hide. With the amount of blood he’d lost, the sun would surely burn deeply. Only those who fed healthily could venture into the light.



Fighting to remain standing, he shouldered open the door. The rusty smell of disuse flooded his nose as he stumbled against some metal scrap. He collapsed to the cold concrete beneath him. He had no energy to go further. His body continued its duty, knitting his wounds. The thirst was nearly unbearable by the time the sun broke the horizon.



His body was forced into the deep realm of unconsciousness. It was neither restful nor healing. It was merely a state of being. His mind wasn’t aware of his surroundings; a dangerous state for his kind. Should an individual wish it, he could be destroyed in such a state. Death perhaps would be welcomed with open arms.



Despite his unconscious state, his mind wandered. Time meant nothing as he floated on an ocean of both pain and ease. In this state, he felt the pulsing beat of Naruto but was unable to do anything save listen as it faded in and out--so close he could touch it. The torture was keen as a heartbeat pulsed in his ears, blood dosing his senses.



“Is he dead?”



“No…I saw a dead man once. He didn’t look like he was sleeping. His eyes were open and his tongue swollen in his mouth. It was disgusting.”



“Should we call the police?”



“Let’s search his pockets first. He’s got good clothes. He might have some coins.”



“Is that…blood?”



Sasuke’s eyes snapped open, his hand latching onto the hand of one of the boys. Both screamed. The first--a rather chubby brunet--ran top sped towards the open doorway from the warehouse.



Lifting his eyes, he stared deeply into the sky blue he dreamed of so often. Naruto was here. Fate had sent him to him. Why so young? What was his fate that they met with him merely a child?



“Let me go!” He began to struggle in earnest, his initial surprise giving way to fear and desperation.



“I won’t hurt you.” His voice was raspy from dehydration. The blood loss must have been significant to pull him into this state.



The boy’s struggles eased as he looked over Sasuke. “What’s your name?” He knew of course. It was always Naruto. Strange though it might be, the name Naruto was the one significant constant in their meetings.



“Naruto.”



“Why are you here, Naruto?” Sasuke released the wrist; the pulsing beat beneath his fingers was too tempting a feel.



“We were looking for a place to sleep. All the other good places were taken.” Naruto plopped on a few feet away, his shaggy blond hair hiding his eyes.



“Homeless?”



“Yeah. Me and Chouji have been living on the streets since we left the orphanage. They were going to send us to the place where all the kids go once they turn eight.” He stretched his arms over his head. Sasuke took this time to observe him. His clothes were several sizes too big except his shoes which were too small. Food was probably in short supply. Dirt and mud caked his body, leaving small smudges on his cheeks and nose.



The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, giving him a sliver of energy. Sasuke rose slightly before collapsing. His body was still healing. It would be another day at least before he would be healed enough to feed.



“Hey mister…what’s your name? Are you rich? Me and Chouji could work for you, running errands…sweeping your floor. You got nice clothes…well when they’re not bloody. What do you say?” Naruto mouth was running a mile a minute as he began rattling off things he could do for Sasuke. The other could do no other than chuckle at it. This was the first time he’d met Naruto so young. It was strange. He knew who he was. He knew who he would become and yet to not be attracted to him was an interesting experience.



“My name is Sasuke.” Sasuke closed his eyes, tired of looking into the earnest eyes. He was tired of Naruto’s innocence. It nearly burned him to be in his presence after the becoming monster he was today. He wasn’t even sure what he felt anymore. It had been so long since he’d felt little more than the despair. What did he feel? It felt foreign. Love…such a pitiful word to describe his relationship with Naruto. No. He did not love him. Naruto was his obsession. He both ran from and to him--he knew he always would. He could not exist in this world without him and it was torturous to be with him.



“Sasuke…you have a strange name like mine.” Naruto sat watching him, his clever little eyes looking for weakness.



“It’s Japanese. Your name means something like maelstrom.” Sasuke rested his head against the metal wall of the building, attempting desperately to ignore the flush of blood moving through the veins of the boy.



“What’s a mail whatever?” Naruto frowned, testing out the word.



A small chuckle escaped. “It’s a type of violent whirlpool.”



“Oh…what about your name?” Naruto inched closer, watching him with more and more interest.



“My name has no special meaning. It can mean help but I doubt my parents were looking for help when they named me.” Sasuke winced, moving in an attempt to ease the ache in his abdomen. His healing had slowed down considerably as his blood ran low. He could only hope he was not feral by the next sunset.



“Are you hurt? I mean, we saw the blood but that’s a lot of blood for one person so I figured it wasn’t yours.” Naruto wrinkled his little nose at the crusted blood decorating the other’s dark clothes. Even with dark clothing, the blood could clearly be differentiated on the cotton.



“I’ll be fine by tomorrow night.” Sasuke pressed his hand to the wound. The skin had barely knitted together, at risk for ripping open at the slightest stressing.



“I can bring you food tomorrow…and maybe some stuff to bandage it.” Naruto offered. It was probably saying a lot, offering food. For a child living on the streets, food was one of the greatest needs. Many starved to death in their first few months.



“I just need to rest. Don‘t come here any more. Stay away.” Sasuke closed his eyes as consciousness faded in and out. He heard the soft breathing of Naruto. He heard the whispered questions directed at him of which he was unable to answer. He heard him leave as dawn broke the horizon. It was all relative. His body refused to allow him to move in his stasis state. It required rest and energy to heal. His body was literally eating itself to heal enough for him to feed.



His mind began to fade farther and farther from the forefront, leaving only the most animalistic part of his brain in control of his actions. The darkness encroached, blocking the light of awareness from his view. What remained was the most basic sum of his being. He could not speak the words of man. His feral mind did not care. The things making Sasuke who he was were repressed by the inert need for survival.



Red eyes snapped open as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. The creaking of the door drew his enhanced sense as the young boy stepped inside. Sustenance. He cared not for whom. The only factor was the hot blood pulsing through the young body. Saliva pooled in his mouth as his fangs lengthened to their full potential, stabbing past his lips.



“I brought some food. I couldn’t find any bandages so I stole a shirt from someone’s laundry. At least it’s clean.” Naruto paused sensing a change in the air. “Are you alright?”



Sasuke body quivered at the words. He wasn’t interested in the bread and jerky the boy had wrapped carefully for him. His entire focus was on the pulsating blood beneath the surface. His only reason for existence was blood. This boy held the key to his survival. He needed it. Need. Desire. Sustenance. They all blended together, giving him strength to move.



“At least you can stand today.” He grinned walking forward.



Had any portion of Sasuke remained, he would have screamed for the boy to leave--to run. He did not. He merely waited for the opportune moment. He was an animal. His only instinct was to survive--to devour any who offered themselves to the beast within him.



Naruto placed a hand on his arm and he struck. The scream was cut short as his teeth buried themselves in the small neck. The cry turned faint, his body rigid. Fear flavored already exceptional blood. The power flooding him was unlike any he’d ever experience. His teeth gnawed deeper, determined to fill his body with the strength it offered. Growls and snarls escaped as the struggles of the body beneath him began to dwindle.



“Stop…please…I don’t want to die.” Naruto whispered, the strength obviously draining from his body.



The words fell on the deaf ears of the monster. He wanted only to feed--to replace what was lost. He could not even speak words of what he needed. He was lost to the feral creature lurking inside every injured animal.



The heart pounded beneath his palm. He could feel the slender ribs and concaved stomach--a result of malnutrition. It did not affect the potency of the blood flowing warmly in his mouth. The strength returned to his body as it faded from his victim. The heart stuttered beneath his palm, slowing. The beats became irregular as his lips drew the red liquid into his mouth.



The body gave a final shudder before going limp. His clawed hands discarded the boy to roar out as heat burned through his very core. Where once was madness, sanity erupted into a powerful surge. Lightning coursed through his body as stars flared before his eyes. Energy spiraled through him, pushing aside the monster. Only the man was left quivering in the aftermath.



Perhaps an hour passed--perhaps a day. Time meant nothing. Only the ache remained--some keen knowledge of having done something even beyond his small code of morality.



Stricken eyes landed upon the dirty head of blond hair. His body scrambled to the small frame. “N-Naruto…”



The cold skin burned him. His fingers trembled at the blood smearing the small neck and his own lips, now crusted and dry. His mind shattered. The scream that tore through the crumbling warehouse was more that of an animal dying. He’d destroyed the object of his obsession. He had killed him. His blood ran heavy in his veins, powering him in ways he had never dreamed. Hours. Days. They meant nothing as he cradled the rotting husk in his arms.



How Itachi found him was anyone’s guess. His brother’s pallor bespoke of the truth he would hide from the council as he pried his hands from Naruto‘s cold body. Sasuke’s snapping and madness meant nothing to his brother. He was wrapped in a blanket of sleep, spirited away to one of Itachi’s many homes.



For a decade he stared into the darkness of his mind. It fell upon Itachi to force feed him the blood his body craved. Gone was his brother. There was nothing left but a husk as empty as that of Naruto’s body.



February 27, 1943

Olympia, Washington



“Itachi…”



Itachi pulled his wrist from his brother’s lips. A small trickle of blood tracked down the chiseled chin. He quickly caught the droplet with a napkin before turning to see Kurenai.



“What can I do for you, Kurenai?” Itachi tossed the soiled linen into a wastebasket.



“Why do you not put him out of his misery?” Her eyes softened with compassion as she stared at the shell of what was once a man.



Itachi crossed his arms, crimson spreading through his dark eyes. “He’s not gone.”



“There is nothing left! He’s a ghost. A shell. The boy…Naruto, took the last of his sanity with him.” she hissed, he eyes hardening in determination.



“I’m sorry.”



Dual pairs of crimson eyes turned to the man seated at the window. Itachi moved quickly to his brother’s side. “Sasuke!”



“Naruto…I’ll make this right.” Sasuke’s eyes continued to stare at nothing before turning to meet Itachi’s. “Itachi…I have to make it right.”



“Sasuke, make what right?” Itachi took his brother’s hand, clenching tight the pale skin.



“He’s dead because of me. If I’m given another chance. I need to make it right. I need you to help me make it right.” Sasuke grappled at Itachi’s clothes, seeking perchance against him.



“Sasuke, leave the human. He has broken you to nothing. I’ve nearly lost you. I don’t know what I would do without you. Leave him. Let the fates do what they will with that soul.” Itachi shook his brother lightly, hoping the words would break through to him.



Sasuke’s gaze went dull. His eyes closed in seeming exhaustion. “I’m tired, Itachi.”



“Don’t say that.” Itachi shook him again.



“I won’t sleep. Not yet.” Sasuke returned to his chair by the window, dead eyes staring at nothing.



“Itachi, we need to talk.” Kurenai nodded to the door.



Closing it behind them, she turned to face the king. “I have encouraged the council to ignore this last break out of courtesy to you. They will not overlook another. Be wary, least you find yourself without a throne.”



“Is that a threat?” he asked, hands clenched in fists.



“It is a warning. You are my dearest friend but I am but one vote. Take care.” She smiled, touching his cheek before leaving.



Itachi rubbed his hands over his eyes before returning to Sasuke’s room. The light from the electrical lamp illuminated the empty chair where his brother once sat. Racing through the room, he cried out for his brother. There was nothing. He had vanished.



“Sasuke…he will only bring about your downfall.” Itachi closed his eyes, feeling so very old.



October 2, 2009



The blood. It carried memories to his mind. Naruto. The many versions of him merged together. His touch. His voice. The taste of his blood.



“Naruto…” he gasped out, pulled back to see unconscious form. It was him. His obsession. Alive. An adult. A vague memory of a new born babe cradled in his arms flooded his mind. Cracks began in his mind, little pieces of himself shattering under the stress.



Pushing away from the form, his fingers dug into his skull. The darkness was there, hazing over his very being. He recalled the hospital. The infant so small and weak cradled in his arms. He could have ended his suffering. Had Itachi not spoken…would he have?



Rocking back and forth, his mind rebuilt itself from the deep sleep. He could feel his memories clicking together. His mind fragmented again, only to rebuild itself. He could not see. He could not hear. He lived in his memories. They flashed before his eyes, swirling images.



“Sasuke!”



His eyes jumped to meet his brother’s horrified gaze. “What have you done?”



Sasuke continued rocking. He could not process the words. His mind--part feral, part man--balked at the comprehension. The name Itachi was the only understanding. He watched with wild eyes as his brother crouched beside Naruto. He was going to take him from him. No one would take him from him again.



“No!” he screamed, his claw-like fingers reaching for him. He belonged to him. “Mine!”



“Sasuke…he’s weak. I need to get him help. You have to let me help him.” Itachi whispered frantically.



Wild eyes darted back and forth before his fingers released the pants. Lips moved but no sound escaped. He closed his eyes as another memory took him in its grasp. He screamed out, his claws madly lashing out at anything.



Itachi gripped his brother shoving him to the bed. His mind was too fragmented. Sleep would only be a temporary fix.



Sasuke screamed out, his feral side returning to dominance. “Mine! Mine!”



“Sleep, Sasuke.” Sasuke fought the thrall. His body twisted under the compulsion before going limp. Darkness engulfed him. For the moment there were no nightmares.



To be continued.