"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sotis, they win."
— Stephen King
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[First Person POV – Otis]
My eyes burned red from the strain of forcing them open, vision swimming. I tried to rip free from the ropes again, but my body had nothing left. Not even enough strength to scream. My throat was so parched it felt like it had turned to sandpaper. The world was still spinning when I heard it
Rustling. To my left.
My eyes narrowed. I turned my head, slow, heavy, like it weighed a hundred pounds. And then I froze.
Sayuri. Sasuke. Hinata.
For a second, I thought I was hallucinating. This was too good to be true. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novelꜰire
Am I in a genjutsu?
The three of them stood there like they'd stumbled across a corpse. Their eyes went wide, their faces pale. Sayuri's mouth opened like she wanted to shout, to say sothing smart or smug like she always did—except the words died before they even left her lips.
Because they saw .
What I looked like.
And shit, I must've looked like hell.
Those bastards had kept alive—stitched and patched just enough so my heart wouldn't stop before they could carve it out along with the rest of . But I was still hanging on by a thread.
My entire body was a ss. My chest still burned, shoulders torn open, even my damn neck had faint outlines where soone had tried to carve open like at. Dried blood clung to every inch of . Even my wrists…The ropes were soaked crimson, half-fused into my skin like they'd grown there.
Sayuri's eyes shimred wet, her voice caught in her throat. For the first ti, she didn't look like an arrogant Uchiha brat trying to keep up with . She just looked… scared. Hinata wasn't any better. Her pale eyes glistened with tears, hands trembling as she covered her mouth.
And then, for the briefest mont, I swore I saw sothing red flickering in Sayuri's eyes.
They rushed forward, hands frantic, trying to tear the bindings off , their small hands clawing at the ropes, I hissing when the blood-soaked bindings stuck like they'd fused to my wrists. The pain flared like fire when they tugged, but compared to everything else, it was almost funny.
Almost.
Then another rustle.
This ti to my right.
I dragged my head that way, And look who steps out?
Naruto.
Of course.
Why wouldn't he be here? Where there's Sasuke, there's always Naruto. Heh.
Sayuri's brow twitched so hard I thought it might snap clean off her forehead. Her voice cut sharp.
"What are you doing here, Naruto?!"
Naruto puffed up his chest, that dumb stubborn pride written all over his face.
"I ca to help!"
Sayuri looked like she was two seconds away from strangling him right there. "Help? HELP?!
Naruto stamred sothing back, louder, and the two of them were already bickering like idiots.
"Guys," I croaked, my voice nothing more than broken glass.
They froze, guilt flashing across their faces like they'd just rembered I was half-dead in the middle of a battlefield.
I swallowed, throat dry as desert sand. "Water…"
Hinata fumbled with her bag so fast I thought she'd drop it, but sohow her hands—still trembling brought a flask to my lips. Cool water slid down my throat, and for a second I thought I'd lt into the chair from relief.
"…Thanks," I muttered. My voice was rough, but at least I could speak without tasting blood.
Finally, the ropes gave way, tearing loose with wet, sickening snaps. My wrists burned and my whole body trembled. I was too weak, barely able to stand, but I was out of the chair. I was free.
We moved quietly, sneaking toward the shadows. Yuki was still rampaging, Shisui still clashing with Orochimaru, the room a storm of fire and steel. Maybe, just maybe, we could slip out unnoticed—
And then my gut twisted. Sothing wasn't right.
And there he was.
One of Orochimaru's subordinates, watching us like animals in a cage. His body was cut and bleeding, but his eyes burned with excitent.
A chuckle slipped out of ,
"Of course. It wouldn't be that easy."
***
[Third Person POV]
The clash between Orochimaru and Shisui rattled the underground chamber, sparks of jutsu and steel lighting up the darkness. Dust swirled in the air, carrying the sharp scent of blood and burning stone.
But in the shadows, sothing else stirred.
The second subordinate of Orochimaru slowly pushed himself up, his body trembling but his grin widening like a cut across his face. His jaw was split at the corner, bleeding, yet his teeth glead white against the crimson.
His na was Kazan.
One of Orochimaru's "projects," a shinobi enhanced, twisted, and stitched back together more tis than he could count. His flesh carried the marks of experints, his veins humming faintly with toxins. Not strong enough to clash with the Uchiha storm his master faced—no sane man thought that, but still dangerous.
Kazan pushed himself up, leaning on his sword like a crutch at first. His lips curved faintly, eyes sharpening as they settled on sothing that caught his attention.
His eyes locked on the back wall.
There.
The chair was empty.
The "subject" of Lord Orochimaru, the boy who'd been bound was now surrounded by kids. Four of them, The boy himself stood barely upright, but he was free.
Kazan's grin split wider, stretching almost grotesquely. He licked the blood from his lips as he whispered, "There you are. Crawling out like a rat… all for to catch."
The grin that spread across his face wasn't human anymore—it was predatory.
He knew he couldn't match Shisui. But Lord Orochimaru had no use for excuses. The Uchiha was a storm beyond him, but the others? The brats? The weakened subject? They were prey. Easy prey. And Kazan would not let Orochimaru's subject slip away under his watch.
The blade in his hand rose, catching what little light crept into the chamber. His muscles tensed, chakra flaring dark and unstable, the kind only Orochimaru's experints could carve into a man.
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Author's Note:
Freedom at last!
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/pacifist01
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