Chapter 1
Prologue
This is a dark fic, so I am warning you before hand that you might not want to read it.
Blood splattered the ground …tears pooled with the stench of death, and the broken look in people’s eyes as they tried to think what this was all for. The life of a shinobi is one of death and pain, summon by the people to commit to a service that they themselves wished to have no part of, but, they are largely the cause.
It isn’t fair.
The man thought as he slammed his fist into the smaller body in front of him. The child hitting the ground as blood spills from his parted lips and went down his face as he didn’t stop, but drove the kunai home as a final measure. How many young ones will he kill? How many deaths will be acceptable until this war was over. He don’t know how many times he walked over the corpse of comrades, and how many times he watched the life fade from the eyes of one whom looked to be still in the grip of childhood. A life lost, because of the madness of someone else. He hated it. Though he didn’t stop; he couldn’t stop because it was either him or them.
Suddenly a scream rips through his dream as he shot up, and looked out of his window. The sounds of the child’s scream was much more powerful than his own in his dream as he saw that once more a child was strapped against a tree. His back turned so that the other children could see without a doubt the fate of one whom broke their most sacred rule.
A whip hitting his back again and again in a matter that was almost musical in the way that it kept a perfect rhythm with the child’s screams. Strike, scream, strike, scream, one after the other in such a way that it is almost impossible at some point to tell which came first, the child’s scream or the crackle of the whip as it drags across his skin.
“It’s a necessary evil.”
The man declares as he flops back down, and closes his eyes again. There was no sense in letting it get to him as suddenly he hears the cry of another child. This one was sharp and high in tone …a girl he guessed as she yells out.
“Stop hitting him …stop hitting him.” “He doesn’t understand he is too young.”
She screams as the one whom was beating the boy stops to look at her. He knew it without even looking that the man would be glaring at her then, and a second scream would soon accompany the boy’s this night. She had broken the same rule as him, and they both will pay for it.
“You are to show no emotion.”
He whispers to himself as he tries to block it all out, and the screams continued to fill the night until the two were too weak to make any sounds at all. Their bodies hanging limply, the only escape from their situation would come from their unconsciousness. Then, and only then, would they be taken to the medical room to be seen to, because those children are too precious at this point to be allowed to die.
Then only then, did he slip into the world of dreams, where the battle field awaited. Asleep or awake, he couldn’t escape.
A living hell that even death wasn’t allowed to take you from.
War.
PROLOGUE completed
