Booker
Sannin of the Scrolls 📜
- Joined
- Jan 23, 2013
- Messages
- 8,352
- Reaction score
- 958
The little boy spat in the man's face with a grimace.
Multiple shuriken littered the boy's body, and his white hair was stained with his own blood. A deep gash cut across his torso ensured his death; but it would give the man just enough time to get what he needed.
The man, growing increasingly impatient, asked the boy the same question as before.
He was met with another thick wad of bloody spit.
The man sighed. This one, like the others, was a dead end.
In his best patient tone, the man asked once more,
"Where is Orochimaru?"
With his last ounce of defiance, his seething hatred managed to form the last words he would ever speak,
"Go... To Hell..."
The man had had enough. He threw the boy off the cliff to the rocks below.
The man turned around. He heard the body hit.
Bodies littered the area before the cliff, the grass and trees themselves dyed a crimson hue. He looked on and considered the destruction before him. At least a hundred were dead.
He was not responsible. The boy had slaughtered this entire nomadic village, for seemingly no reason. For his age, his jutsu and skill were amazing, as he had had a reputation for killing off grown men and women, and occaisionally children. The man remembered what is was like to cherish this sort of thing, to desire it.
A fatally injured woman let out a last gasp of despair.
Now, it just sickened him.
The man picked up the boy's headband from the ground; it bore the sign of a Hidden Sound Nin. He shoved it into his pack. It was his sixth one he had collected.
He gazed once more at the death and horror around him.
He muttered a single word,
"Next."
Sasuke Uchiha left this all behind him, and continued his search.
- More Answers To Come -
Multiple shuriken littered the boy's body, and his white hair was stained with his own blood. A deep gash cut across his torso ensured his death; but it would give the man just enough time to get what he needed.
The man, growing increasingly impatient, asked the boy the same question as before.
He was met with another thick wad of bloody spit.
The man sighed. This one, like the others, was a dead end.
In his best patient tone, the man asked once more,
"Where is Orochimaru?"
With his last ounce of defiance, his seething hatred managed to form the last words he would ever speak,
"Go... To Hell..."
The man had had enough. He threw the boy off the cliff to the rocks below.
The man turned around. He heard the body hit.
Bodies littered the area before the cliff, the grass and trees themselves dyed a crimson hue. He looked on and considered the destruction before him. At least a hundred were dead.
He was not responsible. The boy had slaughtered this entire nomadic village, for seemingly no reason. For his age, his jutsu and skill were amazing, as he had had a reputation for killing off grown men and women, and occaisionally children. The man remembered what is was like to cherish this sort of thing, to desire it.
A fatally injured woman let out a last gasp of despair.
Now, it just sickened him.
The man picked up the boy's headband from the ground; it bore the sign of a Hidden Sound Nin. He shoved it into his pack. It was his sixth one he had collected.
He gazed once more at the death and horror around him.
He muttered a single word,
"Next."
Sasuke Uchiha left this all behind him, and continued his search.
- More Answers To Come -
