Bitter Song

By: Terminal-Requiem

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or any of its characters, only the plot of this story and a very twisted mind.

Warning: I'd say this is rated M. No violence yet, not going to be too violent, just gory, eventually... lots of blood in this chapter though. (Just read the title of the chapter)

Author's Note: In this story, Sasuke never went to Orochimaru, and Itachi never joined Akatsuki. Instead, he started his own evil organization, The Scarlet Wreath.

'blah' thoughts

"blah" speaking

Chapter I: Bloodbath

Sasuke Uchiha made his way through his home after yet another day of training. His red sharingan, continuously active for six hours, were glowing ominously from the light of the moon outside. The moon was full on that night and cast grotesque shadows on the floor, walls, and ceiling. Its red glow brought back memories that made him nauseous, but then again, the moon was never really red. The first time he thought he had seen a crimson moon he had merely been covered in blood, this time it was just his eyes, they always made things different shades of red; he often wondered if that was the way animals saw the world, basic and abstract. His head was throbbing from behind his eyes, something that always happened when he had his sharingan active for too long.

He grasped the railing of the large staircase leading to the second floor without turning on any lights, knowing they would only worsen his already growing migraine. He knew the layout of the house well enough to navigate it with his eyes closed, which was exactly what he did, trying to soothe his eyes as much as he could. He turned right when he reached the top of the stairs and reached the door to his room without stumbling once. He removed his headband from his training-dirtied face and placed it where hw knew a chair to be. He stopped just before he crashed into a door and turned the doorknob to open the entrance to the luxurious bathroom.

The bathroom, like everything in the Uchiha district was oversized, over the top, and fit for royalty. He removed his sweat soaked shirt and turned the knob to fill the giant marble bathtub with hot water. Once the tub was full, he removed the rest of his clothing and gracefully slid into it, the heat of the water instantly relaxing his sore muscles. He had always enjoyed having sore muscles after training, it was comforting gave him a sense of accomplishment, pushing his body past its limits getting him closer to his goal.

'Urgh. Damn it! Why did I have to start thinking about that?' he thought as he submerged his entire head underwater. 'Stupid nightmares.'

As he pulled his head out of the inviting warmth of the water, his blue-black hair fanning around him on its surface, he steeled his nerves for the release of is sharingan. With the release of the sharingan after hours of use came an extreme amount of pain. After sitting up on the tub and taking a deep breath, he released his sharingan. A pain too great for words instantly overtook him. It felt as though his skull was being ripped open as his blood began to boil, his vision becoming a symphony of color as it spun around him in a brutal blur. His hand flew to grasp in an unsuccessful attempt to lessen the pain as unwanted tears stung his eyes and streaked his face. He wanted to scream, to yell until his throat was so raw it bled, but he concentrated on not doing so; he was an Uchiha, he was better than that.

Images of his past ran through his head, barely distinguishable on the back of his tightly shut eyelids through the pain. His parents, on their knees in the old dojo, his brother standing behind them, his sword raised and ready to strike. Then, the sword slashing through the air, colliding with their necks leaving fatal lacerations, the blood on the blade slipping off from its momentum and crashing into the youngest Uchiha's face. The lifeless corpses slumping to the ground as his Aniki's form towered over them, The Sheppard of Death.

The pain stopped as abruptly as it had begun, leaving only a shaking young man with his head in his hands and tears in his eyes sitting in a large tub of cooling water. The world slowly stopped spinning and returned to the stationary state he had become accustomed to.

However, all was not right with his now stable world, there were two figures standing in his bathtub, two figures that couldn't be there. His parents stood there with the water reaching their waists and their empty, white eyes intently staring at him.

"Worthless." His father was the first to speak.

"Disgrace." His mother's voice, empty of the warmth it once held in life.

"You do not deserve to live." His father again.

"You let us die." They were taking turns.

"You begged for your life.""You ran like a coward." A loom of disgust overtook both of their faces. "You are a filthy little coward," continued his mother while blood began to flow from her nose, ears, and the corners of her mouth. She started walking towards him, her look changing to one of hatred as each step made the water ripple. "You worthless, filthy little coward!" She gripped is shoulders tightly and looked into his onyx eyes with her soulless white ones. "Filthy! Worthless!" Her voice was becoming louder with every syllable. "Filthy! Filthy! Filthy!..." Her voice was a screech now, blood spraying from her mouth and onto his face as she repeated the mantra. He couldn't move, a voice in his head told him that it wasn't true, that he wasn't filthy, but he knew better, he knew it was all true. While still yelling, his mother began to melt and dissolve into the water, as did his father, staining it a deep crimson.

Sasuke lifted his hands out of the liquid and as it flowed between his fingers, he caught its unmistakable smell. Blood. His parent's blood. He was bathing in his parent's blood!

"Filthy, filthy, filthy..." he kept chanting under his breath as he stared at his hands. Then he did the only thing his mind could register to do. He screamed. He screamed as loud as he could until he felt a coppery liquid in his throat. As the liquid blocked the entry of oxygen into his lungs, he could feel unconsciousness drawing closer. The last thing he noticed before a pair of strong arms embraced his body and he was pulled into blissful oblivion was an orange-and-yellow blur, and concerned eyes of the purest blue he'd ever seen.

So? How was that? Just a prologue chapter, I just refuse to call it that. This story looks like it might be long, and completely twisted... Well, comment away!