Hello everyone! Here we are, and I'm doing something I said I'd never do; Writing a OC/SI fic. But I was inspired by the multitudes of other ones that I've run across and figured I'd give it a shot! Please, leave a review and let me know what you think.

Warnings- Blood, death, violence, torture, body horror, panic attacks, adult language and situations. There's going to be a lot of stuff happening, so if there's a warning then it can probably be applied to this story, just in case. Probably the only thing that there won't be a chance of happening is rape/non-con. So proceed with caution, dear readers, and I hope you enjoy!

The air of the compound feels tense, like something aside from the heavy and prevalent mist hangs above it. It is stifling, dangerous, waiting to descend upon those existing there and devour them. It leaves those living in its midsts on edge, ready to snap at any moment.

It is the kind of environment Orochimaru delights in.

The people are so deliciously easy to manipulate, and it is simple for him to twist words, to charm them into doing exactly what he wishes of them without a single one being any wiser. They are puppets dancing before him, unaware of their own strings. The thought makes him smile.

He won't have long to wait now.

He is perched upon a hill that overlooks the clan compounds, a simple genjutsu cast to keep them from noticing him. He has a perfect vantage point to watch the proceedings, and sound carries eerily well in the mist, which has yet to dissipate despite the watery sunlight. Just an hour before, the sounds of children screaming in terror and pain and of men laughing and shouting had graced his ears. Forty-five minutes after, a woman had returned from a trip into a neighboring village to buy medical supplies for her ailing mother.

Now, he hears her scream, the sound echoing eerily across the hills and through the scarce, twisted trees.

He licks his lips, delighted that things are falling so neatly into place already. He listens as she wails, then cries out in pain. There are the sounds of a scuffle he can only barely hear by enhancing his senses further with chakra, and he can hear the woman's broken voice.

Pleading.

Weak.

A silence settles. Orochimaru does not fret, though. He already knows the outcome, and he knows that he has won. All he has left to do is wait for the pawn to move.

The sun crosses the sky, sinking below the horizon and taking it's meager warmth along with it. The moon takes her place in the star studded sky, full and brilliant, the light reflecting off the roiling mist below and turning the area into something dreamlike and sinister. His breath hangs in the air, billowing out to disappear into the rest of the white mass. He likes to imagine that his breath adds to it's girth, turns the dream into a nightmare that will not evaporate even when the sun returns.

When the moon has reached her peak, a shadow appears, slinking along the walls outside the compound. Orochimaru watches it's progress, takes note of the unusual bulk to what should be a slight frame and the weight that bows it's shoulders. His smile returns, sly and cruel.

He follows silently, at enough of a distance that he is sure he will not be noticed until the time is right. He knows that the timing must be impeccable and the situation handled delicately and with just the right words. He has been waiting for months, planning since he heard of this clan's fascinating and powerful kekkei genkai, and pursuing these particular subjects after he learned of their unique and unusual heritage. He will not spoil this chance by being impatient.

The moment comes after thirty minutes of continuous running when, without warning, the figure he has been following collapses. There is a moment of silence, the heavy thump of knees hitting the ground ringing through the mist and then fading away. Orochimaru waits, like a serpent poised to strike.

A loud, horrible wailing fills the air, echoing through the night. It is the sound of a broken woman, with nothing left. It is music to his ears.

Orochimaru smiles as he steps forward into a beam of moonlight as it breaks through the clouds.

"My child, whatever could be causing you so much pain?" he asks, voice smooth and quiet, yet sharp enough to cut through the horrendous noise that the woman is making.

She cuts herself off with a choked sound, twisting to face him with a stilted, jerky movement. Her eyes are enormous, dark and glassy, as if reflecting the night around them. She opens her mouth, gasps, chokes on her words and her tears. Orochimaru waits while she gathers herself enough to answer.

"Orochimaru-sama, you were right," she says, the words barely louder than a whisper, her voice hoarse and as broken as her spirit. "I thought that they were beginning to understand. I thought they were going to let me try to heal my mother, and that my daughters would be safe with her. But they...while I was gone, they—"

She cuts herself off with a moan and slumps down, her arms wrapping tightly around herself, one hand twisted behind her to caress one of the large scrolls secured to her back. Orochimaru eyes them greedily, and he has to hide the grin that wants to stretch across his face. Instead, he adopts a mournful expression.

"Oh, dear child, I told you that your clansmen would turn on you and yours. There was too much fear inside them. With your grandmother carrying the curse, and your children's blood being impure, it was only a matter of time before they came for all of them."

She moans again, a pitiful sound. It grates on his nerves, and he resists the urge to scowl at the weakness she shows. After all, as a member of the famously bloodthirsty Kaguya clan, it seems out of place for her to crumble under something as mundane as the death of two half-breed children.

"Sentiment," he thinks bemusedly.

Desire, fury, triumph; These are things he can understand, feelings that burn hot beneath his skin. But the sorts of things that this woman is feeling, he's not sure he will ever truly experience. He has no desire to.

Still, it works out in his favor. If she were not so weak then she would have burned the bodies and been done with it. Instead, she has left the village in order to give them a proper burial and has given Orochimaru the chance he needs. Her face is open, full of pain and something like desperation, and he knows before he even offers that she will accept his proposal. Still, he kneels before her, looking her steadily in the face as he speaks.

"I believe that I can bring them back to you, if you will allow me to help."

She stares at him, frozen, and a tear slips down her cheek, barely visible in the moonlight. He studies her as she processes his words, taking in the shape of her face and the curve of her neck, her large dark eyes and smooth black hair. She is a lovely woman, and he finds himself wondering idly if her children will share her beauty. It would be something of a bonus, if his plans pan out as he would like. There is something undeniably appealing about having strong, beautiful bodies available to house his soul, after all. Not only that, but if his experiments go as he hopes, they will also be hosts with rare and powerful kekkei genkai at his disposal.

"How can you help? What do you want in return?" she asks, voice shaking, but a hint of steel beneath it. She is suspicious, and rightly so. It seems that she is not just the trembling mouse she appears to be, but that will not stop her from being his prey.

He smiles, reaching out a hand to gently cup her cheek. "I have been developing a powerful jutsu, to pull the souls of the newly deceased back to their bodies. It is still in the experimental stages, but there is a good chance it will work. We must act quickly if we are to save your children, though."

She stares at him a moment longer, her eyes still wet, but suddenly brimming with hope. The only sign of her wariness is the slight crease between her brows. Her fingers twitch against the scroll again, one last caress before she brings her hands down to rest in her lap. She meets his gaze unflinchingly.

"What do you want in return, Orochimaru-sama?"

He thinks, briefly, of simply killing her then and there and taking the scrolls that her children's corpses are sealed in from her lifeless body. It would be simple to snap her neck from this position, just a twist of the wrist. His thumb strokes carefully over the smooth skin of her cheek, the tip of his pinky pressed against the line of her jaw. He wonders if she even realizes how simple it would be for him to end her life like this.

But he still needs information from her. She is the only known relative of the last of the Shikotsumyaku users, the only one with a definitive answer on whether or not her children's father is apart of the clan Orochimaru suspects he is, and she therefore holds information that he is unlikely to find elsewhere. So instead, he smiles.

"I simply ask that you leave them in my care for a while afterwards so that I can study the effects and make sure that there are no flaws with my technique."

Her expression melts into one of open relief. It might be enough to fool a lesser shinobi, but Orochimaru can still see the gleam in her eye.

He knows what her plan is; she will let him return her children to her, and then she will steal them away in the dead of night and flee to somewhere she believes is out of his reach. The thought is almost laughable. His smile grows wider, but he does not call her on her intended deceit. Instead, he offers her a hand up.

"Are you prepared to go, then? My nearest base is half a day's travel from here, and we must hurry if we are to bring your children back to you."

She nods once, firm and determined, and together they set off.