Kyuubi

A/N: I still havent written the next chapter for this story, and I don`t know when I will either. My muses for this has left me.. But I will finish this! I WILL! sooner or later... Please R&R.. it might inspire something. Sorry for those of you who have been waiting for an update on this here.. (haha, if you even remember it) but i was sure I already had posted these chapters here.. 

 

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His sneakers were drenched, his toes mashing against the soft material on the inside with every step on the frosted grass. He knew he should be cold since he had run from the house not even remembering to grab his jacket in his haste. But his back was sweaty, and he could feel how his blood boiled through his veins at the frustration of being late, lost and probably heading in the wrong direction. He wanted to scream, yell or kick something. 

He needed to take a piss… he was that fucking frustrated with himself. 

And with Gaara, his idiotic shithead of a little brother — who had not only gotten him into this mess, but who also was responsible for taking his car. Leaving him to trot through the puddles of melting snow. 



And for what? 



To check on some possessed guys house. To see if the boy had killed his parents or not. 



Kankuro really didn't want to do this. 



What he really, really wanted was to just call the cops. But he knew how unfortunate that could prove to be for the kid who had been possessed. The boy was in a world of shit already, and being arrested and thrown into the psych ward or jail-maybe even get a death sentence for killing his parents. Having his face plastered all over the news — was probably the last thing he would need if he got rid of the damned demon.



Gods, Kankuro really hated demons. And he really, really hated how they always seemed to turn his world upside down when they first appeared. 



His hands were shaking as he stuffed them into his pockets. Knowing he'd get nasty frostbites in his nails as soon as he calmed down enough to feel anything at all. 



“Where the fuck is the fucking house?” Gaara had explained that it was a blue house. But with the darkness hanging over the calm neighborhood like a concealing carpet, all things look like all color had been drained from them. Leaving everything in a grey hue; it was impossible to identify a blue house. 



Kankuro took a deep breath. Forcing himself to stop for a second. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if he got lost and threw a tantrum in some stranger's backyard. Maybe he should find the main street. He couldn't recall the number, but he remembered the street name. At least he should figure out if he was heading towards the right street. Yes, with that decided he headed for the front yard of the house. 



He jumped when a large Rottweiler jumped against a fence in the neighbor's garden. The large animal barking angrily while it snarled, baring teeth. “Geez.. am I glad I didn't jump over your fence instead of this.." Kankuro snickered at the animal as he got an angry shout barked in reply. 



It didn't take long before he found a house that matched the little he had gotten of descriptions from his brother over the phone. The house looked like it could be blue. All lights were out and there was a small frog smiling at him from underneath the love swing on the front porch. 



He took a fast survey of the street while he tugged his hoodie even lower over his brown hair. Making sure no one saw him before he walked up to the house, heading into the backyard before letting himself in with a rock through the window, thankful for the privacy fence around the entire back. He doubted anyone had seen him. 



The first thing that hit him was the smell. He gagged when he took the first breath. It smelt so heavy of iron, the metallic stench of blood. The whole house was laced with it. Blood and feces. 



Death.. 

Like someone had died some time ago and the bowels had let out everything. He gagged again, pressing his hand over his nose. He was standing in the kitchen. Staring at a half rotten gold fish floating upside down in its bowl. There were heaps of old food and litter all over the counters. Mildew grew in small forests on old plates while the water in some of the pans looked almost greasy. And then there was the glass... Small glass splinters all over the floor. Kankuro wouldn't have tried to turn on any lights, he wasn't that stupid – even as the urge for that comforting light was overwhelming. He had this desperate urge to check that there really was no monsters in the dark. 



To check that the monster really had left like Gaara had promised. 



But he could see that it wouldn't have worked either way as every light bulb in the room were shattered. It is one thing to choose to remain in darkness, another one entirely to know that you have no choice, to know that no matter what jumps at you from the darkness you can't turn on any lights. The thought alone made his eyes widen almost comically as he tried to see in the pale light provided by the moon's soft glow, while all his other senses was on high alert. 



His fingers and toes had started to hurt now. 



He whispered into the darkness, pressing back the old haunting of golden eyes and hysterical laughter that threatened to send his heart in a spin, forcing the air from his lungs. It had been a long time since he suffered from an anxiety attack or a flashback and this was probably the worst time and place to start having them again. 



He took several deep breaths that he regretted the second he started gagging from the foul smell, lifting his sweater over his nose to keep the smell back before he yelled out in a hushed voice. “Hello? Mr.Namikaze? Mrs.Namikaze? Are you here? I-I'm a friend of…” He trailed off… Realizing that he wasn't a friend of the kid who lived here, and Gaara wasn't a friend of his either-just a classmate. “I'm here to help…” He said instead. 



No response. All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing, and his feet crushing glass under his shoes as he shuffled into the dark hallway. Feeling his way through the darkness with his shoes, going slow-he really didn't want to stumble over something and fall face first into the glass shards on the ground. 



His eyes had just started to adjust to the darkness. The forms and shapes more visible now and he could tell that he was indeed in a hallway- there were stairs leading upstairs and several doors visible down the long hallway. 



A sob had him jumping a mile high, a startled yelp leaving him. He held his breath till he was dizzy- ears perked as he listened for the sound again. And there.. 



Yet another sob came from the closet next to him. He frowned when he saw a chair standing with it's back up against the closet knob, preventing whoever it was inside from getting out without extensive force. 



“Help…please… ” The whispered plea was uttered in a sobbing voice. Kankuro swallowed, well versed in the variety of mind tricks demons loved to use. Playing on the human emotions like empathy, worry, guilt, despair, fear. Oh yes, they loved that taste. 

Fear.. 



Licking his suddenly dry lips he removed the chair before he pulled the door open slowly, not missing that it seemed a bit loose, like whoever it was on the inside had tried to knock it open. 



“It's okay… I'm here to help..” he whispered, The door creaking open oh so painfully slow it actually hurt. His instincts screamed for him to just yank the damned thing open and leap back and away. But he remembered how frightened he had been back when.. when.. yeah. So he took it slow, and soon the painful sobs were louder. 



There was a man sitting in the closet, a naked bloodied man. He was cradling his head in his arms, rocking back and forth. A car passed by the house, the light illuminating the hallway for a few second, just long enough to make out the blonde hair and tan skin. 



Tan skin that looked strangely pale. 



Kankuro didn't know what to say.. Not right away.. 

It took him several seconds to snap out from his stupor. “Hey.. it's okay. Mr.Namikaze? I'm Kankuro, my brother Gaara.. he's with Naruto now.. and they're with Orochimaru..” the words had barely passed his lips before the man reacted- his head snapping up. 

“He-He's okay? He.. he's going to be okay?” Mr. Namikaze started shaking, deep gulping sobs leaving him. Like he had been holding his breath for several hours. 



“Yeah… He'll be okay..” Kankuro lied, he really didn't know who was going to be okay, and who wasn't. Everything seemed to be fucked.. but he felt he couldn't say that he didn't know. It just seemed like this man's frail sanity depended on that little lie. 



And he was right, Minato had needed that. Needed to know that it hadn't all been for nothing. Orochimaru would help. Thank god.. And with that knowledge he let himself drift away. It didn't matter now, he had been cold for several hours, cold and dizzy while blood ran from the slashes and cuts left by the demon on his naked skin. His entire body was hurting. 



Kankuro caught the man when he suddenly closed his eyes and fell. His breathing shallow. He was badly hurt- deep claw marks going down his arms and sides. Like a lion or large predator had clawed him up. 



He needed to get him to the hospital, but first.. first he needed to take care of things. There was really too much to clean up. Too much to cover up. And, Kankuro swallowed, if he were to judge by the smell.. there was at least one dead person in here. 



Lifting the unconscious man with a grunt, Kankuro staggered to his feet, thighs trembling from the effort- almost falling forward. “God damnit you're heavy.." He muttered, feeling like the sound of his own voice helped ease down his anxiety. 



Humming on REM's drive he stumbled into the living room- face pulling down into a grimace when he spotted the source of the foul smell. A lady that looked like she could have been pretty was lying half covered with a blanket on the floor. Right in the middle of a pool of light that crept in from the window. Her eyes staring at the roof in surprise;- while her belly had bled red through the blanket. A puddle of blood lying calm around her, thickening as it dried. 

He walked carefully around her, making sure not to touch the blood, trying his best not to look at her. But his gaze seemed to be pulled down to her, an irrational fear creeping up his spine. Afraid that she would suddenly come to life, leap up and try to eat his bowels. 



“I've seen way to many horror movies for this shit..” He muttered, flinching when he almost slipped on something, he really didn't want to look down and find out just what. He almost ran to the door when he had rounded the body, letting out a desperate sound when he realized that he couldn't just leave. Couldn't let the cops find the house in this condition, and what about the hospital? They would surely ask questions.. What the hell could he say? Should he say? 



This was the reason he had come here after all- to make sure that the kid wouldn't have to suffer the consequences of the demons actions. “Fuck!” He slammed his fist into the wall- putting Minato down on the floor by the door, wrapping a blanket he found on the couch around him. “I'll be right back okay.." He whispered just in case the man could hear him. The garage was cold and dark, darker even than the house and smelling like outside and gasoline. The first thing he did after descending the three step stair was bump his toe into something. 



This really wasn't his day, he cursed yet again. Ignoring the pain throbbing through his toe, flipping his Zippo® lighter open, squinting his eyes in the weak light in an attempt to spot something of use. 



And finally! Finally there was a small break in his unlucky streak when he saw a flashlight hanging on the wall just next to what he assumed to be the fuse box. He took the red stick down and flipped the small button, the white beam of light illuminating the floor in a long line. He kept it low while he searched the small room, spotting the lawn mower he ran over to it. Letting out a small whoop when he found what he was looking for. Not one, but two! Cans of gasoline. “Jackpot!" Minutes later, the flames were lapping up the walls, eating their way through wood and fabric at an alarming speed. Kankuro was coughing painfully, clutching his sweater over his nose. Minato was not faring any better, worse really since Kankuro hadn't allowed the nearly unconscious man to cover his mouth. His breath was short and pained while violent coughs rocked his body- mucus running from his mouth. 





Kankuro had waited until the last possible moment before he had fled from the house with Minato wrapped in a blanket thrown over his shoulder. Waiting till it was almost too late, because he needed Minato to look innocent. And he was, of course he was.. but Kankuro wasn't. Not in the eyes of the police if they found the clues they would need to solve this riddle. 



This riddle of the gasoline poured all over, and the dead lady. The broken glass and the strange boy who came running out with Minato thrown over his shoulder. Why was he here? What was his part in this? And where was the son? And why was Minato hurt? It wasn't like Minato would be able to come up with an answer. Kankuro had made him promise to just keep repeating that he couldn't remember anything. 



Fuck! What a clusterfuck!



Kankuro wasn't sure if he should stay or not.. but the wisest thing in the end- he had decided- was to run. So he did… just when the blue lights could be seen reflected in the dark clouds of smoke and the bellowing sound of sirens could be heard. A neighbor having called the fire department, just like he knew they would. 



He ran like the hounds of hell was at his feet, just long enough to get out of sight- and then he forced himself into a casual stroll. Even when his feet ached to run, his back felt needled. That unmistakable feeling of doom digging itself into his very core. But he managed to stay calm, tilting his head back and watching the stars while he walked in that leisurely, unsusceptible pace all the way home. 



He had almost reached his front door when he jumped a mile high from the buzzing ring of his cell phone going off in his pocket. He almost, just almost didn't answer when the tune of Metallica's 'Enter sandman' tipped him off to who it was.