Categories > Anime/Manga > Naruto
Disclimer: Hmmm... what was writing again? Ah! That's right! FANfiction!
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Ring.
Dark. It was unnaturally quiet and dark. Curtains drawn tightly shut to keep out the afternoon light. The shadows consuming the room... the one room that had always been lit day in and day out... or... at least...
That's what everyone believed.
...
They didn't know, though. Didn't know that the only light there ever truly was was a false, nonexistent one.
No. They didn't know and never would, most likely.
Ring.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Ring.
Why would they care, anyways? They never did before, why should they start now?
Quiet whispers of a small, strained laugh echoed off the barren walls. Walls with large indents and cracks running all along the small, boxed in space.
And blood.
Splattered about randomly was the metallic red color of freshly spilt blood. It looked as though some crazed artist just dumped several buckets of red paint everywhere he looked before leaving.
If you followed the trail of a lone river of this life giving liquid, you'd come upon a hunched over form - almost hidden, if it weren't for the shock of blonde hair- in the corner.
Another small laugh.
Ring.
I wonder what they'd think? Deceivingly blue eyes glinted with a maniacal look that seemed out of place on the young, innocent-like teenager's face. If they found out what I do when I'm alone.
If they ever met the real me.
Drip.
Drip.
Dri-
Ring.
It was hard for him to split his gaze from the kunai- It looked so beautiful, covered in blood. His blood. His lovely, tainted blood. - but he had to stick to his self proclaimed duty, no matter how much he loather that duty. The duty that confused him so much it hurt. So much he began to... forget himself in that mask that he wore constantly...
It annoyed him and He loathed it.
But...
Without it, he would have had too many problems. People would start asking questions about his scars. "Why do look so... dead" they would ask. "Why do you never smile or talk" "When did you become so mature" and the most hated "What are you?" If someone asked him, he wouldn't be able to answer because he had no clue. He had long ago lost the answer.
Ring.
Right! The phone! Shit. The bloodied boy hefted himself up, subconsciously registering that his wounds were healed.
A tanned hand reached for the smooth phone as he put on a cheery smile.
Show time...
And he brought the phone up to his ear.
"Uzumaki Naruto speaking!"
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Author comments:
First story on here. Yay!
I was listening to a song that was screaming "Write a fucking one-shot filled with confusing angsty shit!" so I had to. It was a very stubborn song! -gets slapped-
I'm not sure if it came out well though. O.o I wasn't really think about what I was doing.
-coughs-
Review if you'd like! Flames are welcome so long as I can heat water for the ramen with them! n.n
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Ring.
Dark. It was unnaturally quiet and dark. Curtains drawn tightly shut to keep out the afternoon light. The shadows consuming the room... the one room that had always been lit day in and day out... or... at least...
That's what everyone believed.
...
They didn't know, though. Didn't know that the only light there ever truly was was a false, nonexistent one.
No. They didn't know and never would, most likely.
Ring.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Ring.
Why would they care, anyways? They never did before, why should they start now?
Quiet whispers of a small, strained laugh echoed off the barren walls. Walls with large indents and cracks running all along the small, boxed in space.
And blood.
Splattered about randomly was the metallic red color of freshly spilt blood. It looked as though some crazed artist just dumped several buckets of red paint everywhere he looked before leaving.
If you followed the trail of a lone river of this life giving liquid, you'd come upon a hunched over form - almost hidden, if it weren't for the shock of blonde hair- in the corner.
Another small laugh.
Ring.
I wonder what they'd think? Deceivingly blue eyes glinted with a maniacal look that seemed out of place on the young, innocent-like teenager's face. If they found out what I do when I'm alone.
If they ever met the real me.
Drip.
Drip.
Dri-
Ring.
It was hard for him to split his gaze from the kunai- It looked so beautiful, covered in blood. His blood. His lovely, tainted blood. - but he had to stick to his self proclaimed duty, no matter how much he loather that duty. The duty that confused him so much it hurt. So much he began to... forget himself in that mask that he wore constantly...
It annoyed him and He loathed it.
But...
Without it, he would have had too many problems. People would start asking questions about his scars. "Why do look so... dead" they would ask. "Why do you never smile or talk" "When did you become so mature" and the most hated "What are you?" If someone asked him, he wouldn't be able to answer because he had no clue. He had long ago lost the answer.
Ring.
Right! The phone! Shit. The bloodied boy hefted himself up, subconsciously registering that his wounds were healed.
A tanned hand reached for the smooth phone as he put on a cheery smile.
Show time...
And he brought the phone up to his ear.
"Uzumaki Naruto speaking!"
-------------------------------------------------------
Author comments:
First story on here. Yay!
I was listening to a song that was screaming "Write a fucking one-shot filled with confusing angsty shit!" so I had to. It was a very stubborn song! -gets slapped-
I'm not sure if it came out well though. O.o I wasn't really think about what I was doing.
-coughs-
Review if you'd like! Flames are welcome so long as I can heat water for the ramen with them! n.n
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