Disclaimer: the characters belong to kishimoto; the story is a translation of the antifashion19 Vampir fic

Possible OoC

Before going to hell

Dark shadows dragged stealthily on the frightening and deserted corridor's gray tiles; she watched as the dried leaves of some trees streamed in through the windows because of the cold autumn air. She accommodated the purple scarf that helped keep the heat on her neck and rubbed her trembling hands to warm them while waiting for the young man who was walking toward her.

Biting her lower lip, she played with the envelope she was holding and smiled like an idiot while her cheeks flushed. She stepped between him and the hallway to stop him from moving forward; the young man looked at her angrily, crossed his arms and clicked his tongue. The woman only closed her eyes, leaning slightly; raised her hands so that he managed to receive that wrinkled envelope in her nervousness.

"I-I like you!" she raised her trembling voice. "P-please accept this from me."

The young man took it. His expression didn't change as he opened the envelope, took out the page and read it carefully. The girl looked at him sideways, played with her fingers and bit her lip, waiting for his response.

"A love letter?" he asked annoyed. "Are you confessing with this crap?"

She was surprised, placing one of her hands on her chest to appease the pain. Her black eyes were clouded due to the tears that were about to fall. The young man's deep stare made her stagger and feel small.

"I'm sorry," her eyes fell, "it was not my intention to annoy you."

Unable to bear the pain, she wanted to cry right there. Another young man watched them at the distance, presumably his friend…

"But you did, idiot," he growled. "Stop fucking me with this."

He broke the heart of the young girl.

"I-It will not h-happen a-again," she stuttered.

The young man suddenly took the arm of the girl and turned it a little. Terrified, she complained of pain.

"And don't waste my time," he released her abruptly and she turned towards the door where the other guy was waiting. "Hinata."

She let herself fall to the cold floor, watching as the black-haired man left without any contemplation.

"Ah," he turned back toward her, throwing the crumpled piece of paper to her face, "and keep your stupid letter."

The evil laughter of the man rang throughout the hall, echoing in her head. The bell rang and the students who were in their respective classrooms came out in haste. Some of them saw her and watched her curiously. But the young woman stood up and walked to the front door.

She began to run rapidly, causing the scarf that she was wearing to fly through the air, until she fell to the green grass of the high school. The rejection and the cruel words of the young man, that for a long time she loved in secret… didn´t leave her in peace.

The sarcastic and mocking laughter continued hammering her head.

.

.

.

She continued to advance between the bodies of her teammates to reach the street, listening as some shouted at her and insulted her; but she never stopped, even ignoring the voice of a young woman who screamed for her to be careful. She stopped only to glimpse the front of a truck that threw her body several feet; time stopped as Hinata's body was lying on the floor, blood everywhere.

The driver fell horrified and the shouts of some students were immediate. Some called the ambulance, others cried frantically and others took pictures with their cell phone. A blonde woman, as she approached her, pushed aside the students that swarmed to see Hinata's almost mutilated body.

She got on the floor, took her hand and tried to stop the blood pouring from her stomach.

"All will be okay, honey," she whispered. "The ambulance is coming… You'll be fine."

Hinata always was clueless, stuttered for anything, wasn't popular, nor much less intelligent… but she knew when someone lied. And that blonde with lush breasts was not telling her the truth.

"I-I'm d-dying," she smiled as she realized the things she noticed of the blonde. "D-don't lie."

"Shh," she tried to keep her quiet when she noticed that blood gushed from her mouth. "A-All will be well."

Her attention turned to the students surrounding her, watching her as she dies. She wondered if "he" was here, watching her die… He was at fault. The shadows of the trees crawled toward her with sharp claws.

Hinata saw them, terrified, but instead of her voice, it was blood that came out of her mouth. Were they demons? Ghosts? Maybe an angel?

Whatever it was, it was approaching her, lurking like a lion to its prey; Hinata tried to move, but her broken body wouldn't let her… she was at the mercy of that "thing" and no one could save her.

It was her end.

The shadow took a viscous form and when it approached, it went into her mouth. She could feel how "it" broke down and scraped her trachea, leaving a nauseating, metallic taste. She appreciated how the "thing" within her moved from one side to another, biting each organ.

Her black eyes turned, her heart stopped beating.

She died.

.

.

.

"Cough, cough," she coughed desperately while trying to take a breath. Shit!

She abruptly sat down on the bed, her feet touching the cold floor in the room; she noted all that was around her, a soft light poured through the window, bouncing off the crystal that hung from the ceiling. While clearing her throat, she got up.

Scratching her neck as she walked to the bathroom, she stopped for a moment to see her reflection in the mirror. Her black hair with blue accents, her pale skin, her beautiful face… She smiled arrogantly when she saw the "new" color of her eyes.

White.

The noise of something crawling drew her from her thoughts. Her gaze lowered to find a woman on the ground with matted hair, blue skin, and long nails; she stepped to one side but that being attached onto her leg. She kicked it off and continued what she was doing… Now she had become accustomed to this.

See, those things were the price to pay to come back to life, and that's what would make the culprit pay for her death. It was a new Hinata, who now belonged to the world of death.