Obscuro – A Naruto Fanfic

Hi guys! This is a revised version of the prologue. Adds a little past perspective in comparison to the other one. I recommend listening to creepy organ music while reading this story – anything from Adrian von Zeigler and Misanthropik will do.

Here, the Academy age is 8, while the Uchiha massacre happens when Sasuke is 8 as well.

I do not own Naruto. I do however own my OCs.

Read and review! Constructive criticism is welcome!

" " – human speech/writing

' ' – human thought

" " – demon speech

' ' – demon thought

Prologue – The Watcher

Avesta.

An ancient name.

Its origin and meaning lost to time.

Avesta. That is the name of this village. A small village, far from any of the kingdoms. Surrounded by a small mountain range, it was rather hard to find.

For the nobles, it was like any other backwater village in existence. Small, dirty, unsightly, filled with equally dirty, poor peasants.

For those poor peasants, Avesta was a regular village, if not a bit more run-down. Away from annoying tax collectors, away from snooty nobles and away from any bandits, seeking to pilfer unsuspecting travelers. In some ways, it was a refuge, disconnected from the outside world.

For the people of Avesta themselves? It was home.

Not a perfect home by any means, but still home. Crop terraces ringed the old yet well-kept wooden huts, providing bread and green year-long. Underground springs kept their throats wet. The sturdy mountain goats that roamed the rocky ring supplied sport and game for the men.

Despite these bounties of nature, Avesta had nothing to offer for any kingdom; meaning it was often ignored by the various rulers, leaving its people to fend for themselves, especially during the winter cold. This however was not the only reason why this little village was avoided.

For the past several months, strange things happened during the nights. People disappeared. Strange sightings all over the mountains. Whisperings at night, uttering strange words, sometimes filled with hunger and despair.

To Avesta's back stood the tallest mountain for several leagues, known to most as Damavand. Its black slopes were jagged, littered with sharp black rocks, geysers that spouted ash and hot steam. It loomed over the village like a beast of legend, waiting to descend and devour its prey. Throughout the long history of the village, no one has dared to climb Damavand's hellish slopes.

Unknown to its villagers however, a small number of tunnels lay hidden on the mountain's back, leading to its cavernous heart. In there, a secret meeting was taking place. A brotherhood was about to perform a ceremony there, unaware of the consequences that they would unleash, on Avesta and the world…

Illuminated by candles, black-cloaked men surrounded a large circle, all waving incense. Their leader, wearing a blood-red cloak and holding a gleaming black dagger, walked forward.

It had taken time, to gather their brothers from across the land, to ferry the supplies and tools without letting the locals notice, but they had succeeded. The stars were right this evening. It was time to begin.

In the center of the circle lay a mummified corpse, ringed by bone and blood, atop it a black feather. The leader knelt, raised his knife and chanted:

"Sery sel badama

Sery sjena bsmym

Hypuj na bhary au nplauhm

Bnala eu krbn z ljm

Sel hale bhare

Tu hasjn bfllm, hnra

El arbeh knft hsmym

Mexrt brt haple

Hre at hnra!"

He plunged the knife into the mummy as the other men knelt down with one hand on the ground. The circle around them lit in a flash of red, arcs of lightning dancing about. The corpse began to spasm as a black liquid seeped from within its bandages.

From outside the mountain, clouds began to gather around it as red lightning streaked across the sky. The villagers hurried back to their homes, gazing upon its peak with anxiety and fright.

Suddenly, a pillar of purple light shot up from the mountain and into the heavens. The red lightning struck and coiled around it, as though trying to trap it. The smell of sulfur began to permeate the village, many coughing and holding their noses while other uttered prayers to whatever deity they believed in.

Back in the mountain, the leader had stepped away from the corpse as it melted into that black liquid. Hearing the cracks of thunder from outside, he knew that they had succeeded. The black liquid filled the circle, covering all of the bones in it. The pillar of light then burst from the circle, high up to the peak of the mountain and beyond. After a few deafening seconds, there was silence.

The leader leaned forward, mentally cheering at his success. A few seconds later however, he frowned. The pool should've been bubbling by now. Instead, it just lay there, with not even a ripple from its sides.

He waited, unmoving from his spot. He could hear some of the brothers' restless murmurs. Trying to ponder what had happened, he noticed that the pool began to let out black vapors. His eyes widened. Something went horribly wrong.

Before he could inform the rest however, the entire pool turned into that black mist and enveloped the room. He couldn't see anymore, but he could hear the mad clamoring of the others.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the air.

-Obscuro-

After the freak storm suddenly vanished, the villagers clamored out of their houses. Thankfully, nothing was damaged. The smell and clouds remained however. As they tried to regain their bearings, a young hunter started to make his way around Damavand.

He had noticed some time ago that strange cloaked men were lurking around the mountain. He silently observed them, trying to find their purpose. No matter how much he observed though, he could never find out why they were here. So, when he saw one of them near the great mountain he went to confront him. By time he got there though, the man had seemingly vanished.

He tried again several times, but all of them led to the same result. The hunter was supposed to catch his prey, not let it elude him!

One day, he managed to follow one of the men to a large boulder on the mountainside. To his astonishment, the man tapped his finger on the rock, and it shifted to reveal a passageway leading underground. The hunter failed to reach it in time though, so he waited there the next day. Alas, no one came.

The thoughts of the strange men began to leave his mind until the unnatural storm appeared. He knew that they were connected to this somehow, and he was going to find out how.

He made his way to the secret rock entrance when he noticed that it was open. Without another thought, he entered.

Trudging through the darkness, the young hunter found out that the smell of sulfur was weaker here, but only because of the other, familiar smell that blocked it out. What it was though, he would find out soon.

He soon came upon a large room. But what he saw there, in the light of the candles shook him to his core.

Blood. Cloaked bodies lying around in pools of their own blood. Blood covered the walls, the floors, everywhere.

Horrified, the hunter turned to leave, but his ears picked up something odd.

Whispering. Like the ones plaguing the village, only louder, fierce…ravenous.

The candles suddenly blew out.

Then, he saw darkness.

Several days later, when a caravan made its way into the village, they saw it ransacked to the ground. Huts burnt, fields shredded, blood watering the streets. What was prominent though, was the sheer darkness that enveloped it, as though as a large shadow swallowed it whole. They left immediately, unaware that a small, black tendril creeped out from the ruins and latched onto one of the wagons…

-Obscuro-

It didn't know how it truly came to be. It didn't even know how long it had roamed this earth. Decades, centuries maybe? What it did know however, was that ever since it could remember, it had watched. Watched as kingdoms rose and fell, watched as humans fought each other over and over. Watched as the force called chakra came to be, as humans…ninjas…abused its powers for war.

Fools.

But as it watched, it would move around, scour the lands, mess with the mortals' minds. They were fun to play with, so fragile, so gullible, so terrified when they were unable to see the cause of the carnage it dealt, as they slowly went insane. Yet wherever they looked they saw it…the one thing that exists everywhere, in every world…Shadow. It thought the mortals as mere playthings, toys to be used at its leisure.

Yet what it saw tonight…intrigued it.

A demonic fox rampaging, tearing down all in its path.

Humans cry out as their light leaves their eyes.

A bright-haired human on a large toad fighting back.

The cries of an infant as the fox is absorbed into his little gut.

It had seen the creation of these beasts. Sometimes followed them around the land, seeing the destruction they caused. Yet it had never encountered a host of these beings. Heard of them, yes but seeing one…

So, it watched. Watched as the infant grew, for six years, while being put through hell in that village. Mobs, assassination attempts, jeering from the fleshlings. They would sometimes chase him, especially on his birthday. Did the bright-haired human really think he would be treated as a hero?

Fool. Humans don't change.

Even though he put up a mask of happiness, it saw through it. The anger. The pain. The loneliness. All the while impressed with the young one's tenacity. One day however, on a whim, it made a decision that would change their fates forever…

The language that is chanted is a little something from Angelarium combined with Hebrew.

Read and review. Review. REEEEEEEEEEVVIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWW!