So, this is my second of two new projects and the first to be uploaded. I truly hope this becomes a much enjoyed, or at least entertained, story to you all. Note that this is primarily a Rosario + Vampire story with generally minor Naruto influences, and as such will not be listed in the crossover section.
Disclaimer: I am not in possession of any sort of ownership over Rosario + Vampire, nor do I claim to hold any rights over Naruto... Osama Bin Ladin claimed the rights, you saw what happened to his ass... Fuck that.
Prologue: The beginning.
He was nine when it happened. He stood in the darkened room, his face stinging and his body aching as his frayed and traumatized nerves fired in quick succession over his body and even more so in his left arm which was bent slightly at an angle, bringing attention to it's broken state.
Despite the pain which clawed at his arm in numerous spots, he gave not a sound and merely looked on, trying to both ignore the pulsing twinges and the masculine figure standing behind him, no doubt looking over his shoulder awaiting another complaint or sound out of him. His eyes, milk chocolate in color, were different from other children his age. Where most were filled with wonder and an innocence which could never be attained again by any force in the universe, his were hard and held not a shred of wonder within them despite his age.
They could be likened to obsidian, hard and cold with but the smallest shred of a glimmer which bespoke of having feelings beyond the void which now encompassed his being. Beyond the wall which was so concrete in it's formation it showed in his eyes, one could tell that there was a pit where everything he felt; all the anger, the sorrow, and the pain frothed and boiled upon itself.
A deep masculine voice grunted in satisfaction, in seeing the boy at least respect his place, if not submit totally to his rule of the house. Immediately a groaning squeak of an old worn down mattress creaked in repeated rhythms, the tell-tale signal that the two were at it again.
The boy sighed, glancing over his shoulder with a disgusted sneer upon seeing that the door was ajar and he could see that his god-mother was laid upon her back with that disgusting sack hanging over her, ramming into her as made apparent by the globes of flesh he could see bobbling on her chest. He crinkled his nose, feeling acid in his mouth from the sight. To think that she allowed that thing atop her was baffling in and of itself, but when you think that she had been with this bastard for thirteen months, it was even more incredulous.
Blinking, he stuffed his one good hand into his flannel sweat-pants that doubled as his pajamas and held his damaged limb to his side, not daring to make a sound. He quickly vacated the hallway and made his way to his room, a modest room were it not for the dilapidated state of his room. The far edge of his room had about a foot where the floor was out, and somewhere in the closet a small water-pipe must have burst because there was mold forming near the floor.
Glancing about he supposed that it was better than the one boy a year higher than him in school who was forced out on the streets along with his parents when their mortgage was up. The boy sat down on his futon, one of the only new things in his room -new being relative, having gotten it with birthday money from a Salvation Army- and turned his attention to his arm which had began to show purple half-way between his wrist and elbow.
"Eighth time this has happened... Wish she'd just," The boy grunted, biting deep into his scarred tongue and drawing blood as he pushed on his arm closest to his elbow, trying his best to deal with the scraping pain which ground within him on the level that he imagined going into a wood-chipper would likely be like, "knock him to the road. Don't know why she stays with him." He panted between each word, whilst he took two pieces of board which he had picked up from the side of the road a few days earlier and broke it in two, placing the miss-matched lengths of wood on the top and bottom of his forearm and pressed on them, his eye twitching being the only sign of the pain.
It took less than a minute to wrap two leather belts around the wood and fasten them tightly to hold the splint in place. He lazed back with a sigh, careful to not jar his arm and bring the pain bubbling up again and blinked at the ceiling which had a distinct yellowing of age to it's normally white surface. He had long gotten accustomed to the life which he currently led, it was just one tragedy after another to the point that he now almost took it in stride, not even batting an eye as things afflicted those around him.
Grasping his school identification card absently, he held it before him on it's chain and glared at the brunette haired boy who stared right back with slightly softer eyes and the barest ghost of a smile crossing his face. He grimaced with an amused snort, "How long has it been since that Tsukune became this one? Around a year?"
The brunette boy closed his eyes, turning his head to the side on the pillow-less futon and felt his stomach ache with pain, both from blunt force and hunger. He wondered briefly when he last ate and remembered reluctantly that it had been almost three and a half days; that was the last time they had company over and allowed him to eat, well the last time he did, anyway.
His god-mother Matsuri would sneak him snacks and little plates of food whenever she could, whenever Ishin left to do his rounds. It was only during his absence that she was as she used to be; when she was sweet and caring, rather than just taking the back seat and allowing him to run everything.
His musings and memories were interrupted by a hoarse feminine cry of lust and fulfillment, but most certainly not passion, which was muffled insignificantly by the rather thin walls. Tsukune scoffed, rolling carefully onto his side, effectively placing his back to the door and stared out of his window, the entire top panels of which were duct taped shut. A robin fluttered by and his eyes followed it unbidden until it passed his line of sight out of the window, causing him to let out a grudging sigh, 'If I only had wings, I would leave the confines of this world.'
His door burst open, the sound of the creaking wood giving only a scant second warning before the lock and metal catch in the doorjamb tore apart the frame and jarred the knob free of it's natural position to side in a warped angle, at least it would have if the force hadn't irreparably damaged it when it flew open and punched a whole in the wall.
The light brown and muscular form of Ishin stood in his doorway, his left eye, milky and blue signifying it's blindness focused on him with the assisted coordination from his right gray-blue eye. The short, and seemingly sparse dirty-blonde hair on his head was glistening in sweat as the man looked over the boy, arms crossed over his chest, "Learned your lesson, boy?"
Tsukune didn't respond, deciding that gracing the man with anything more than silence would place him as the victor of the after-math situation, and the boy would not lose anything more to the bastard.
Ishin, however, hadn't gotten the memo and the silence only served to provoke the volatile man, "Silent game, huh? I thought we talked about this, boy." He took a step into the room, tilting his head to the side to allow him to look even further down at the boy, a grin stretching across his face to show perfect, if slightly yellow teeth, "Oh well, we both know what happens now, don't we?"
Before Tsukune could react, the steel-toed work boots which Ishin wore to work slammed into his back, forcing the boy to let out a small whimper which was difficult to hear. Yet, it wasn't his back which caused it, rather it was that his arm jarred from the impact. The tall, dark man frowned upon the lack of his favorite sound from the boy and his lower lip bulged with the pressure his tongue made pressing into it, a sign that he was getting angry.
He stalked up to Tsukune who had quieted his verbal pain and rested his foot against his side. "Don't hold back, the sooner you apologize, the faster this will be over with," Ishhin said with an angry, gruff tone which was laced with amusement, and not a second later he began to rest more of his weight on the elevated limb, pressing more onto his ribs and straining the boy's breathing.
Tsukune was used to this, however. He would make Ishin mad, the bastard would beat him and Tsukune would leave the man's presence due to not being able to stand being around him without feeling sick to the stomach. Ishin would get his murderous rage controlled, usually by getting his rocks off with Matsuri, some random hooker, or via the punching bag in the backyard. Afterward, he would come to confront Tsukune to make the boy apologize, which he usually wouldn't until Ishin had broken a rib, finger, or possibly more. He would then mumble an apology and Ishin would leave him alone.
The brunette boy's breath went ragged after he felt more than heard a rib snap from the pressure and could feel the familiar sensation of the unsupported bone laying limp against his lung, an odd feeling to be sure. Another kick to the back elicited a slightly louder gasp of pain which apparently pleased the man because another, harder kick was issued a bit lower to Tsukune's back. That's what Ishhin would always do, kick him slowly up and down his back so that the pain both was all-encompassing and he had less of a chance of breaking the boy's back.
Finally, after another pressure treatment which had one more rib crack free from his sternum, or near it at any rate, as well as several more kicks to the back and a heel to the back of the head, Tsukune whispered in a hoarse voice, his mouth parched and throat strained from holding back the pain , "O-Okay, I'm... sor-sorry."
Tsukune waited fro the snide comment followed by the releasing of the pressure on his side and the waning sounds of foot-falls treading off through the house which would signal the departure of his tormentor. That's what usually happens but, for whatever reason, today was going to be different.
"Get up, boy." Isshin ordered as he grabbed Tsukune by the nape of his neck and with superior strength, hauled the boy from is laying position to a little bit higher than his own eyes, to look up at the boy. This was a terrifying experience as Ishin was easily six-foot four, possibly more from what he could tell and that put him at least two inches above the man now.
"W-what?" The frightened and confused response eked from his mouth in a far more timid way than he had wanted. His hardened brown eyes shifted frantically around, landing on his tormentor's face no less than seven times. The dirty blonde half-Japanese man chuckled and dropped the boy who fell in a heap at his feet, his arm clutched to his chest with an eye squinted and teeth gnashed to deal with the pain.
Isshin immediately rammed his fist, adorned with numerous rings which were engraved and one which had diamond inlay, into the boy's cheek, leaving a series of gashes across his face, "I've figured that you ain't learned anything in the last year, so I think it's time to re-educate you in a new way." He stood over the boy, eyes narrowed and a n oily expression and his nose and upper lip curled in a sneer.
He reached towards his zipper and with a foreboding grinding whine, the flap was opened and fear welled up in the pits of Tsukune's stomach for the first time in a long time, and another sensation soon came upon him reminding him even more of that day; the day his parents had been murdered.
The world slowed to a crawl, so slow that it was difficult to see that anything still had motion to it, despite the fact that it did. Everything was so sluggish, so slow in it's movement that he was easily able to follow the man's hand as it parted the bronze-lined cloth flap and began to reach within.
He wasted little time, taking an advantage when he saw one and rushed the man before him, cocking his right fist back and ramming it between his spread legs. The man yelled in unimaginable pain as one of his 'boys' were struck directly, and while Tsukune heard the sound perfectly normal, his eyes had seen the man take nearly eight seconds to register the pain and another thirty-six to fall to his knees in pain. He could even vaguely see the warbles and distortions which the sound waves caused.
'Now's your chance,' a soft voice in the back of his head murmured, it's genderless voice sending a chill up the nape of his neck, 'kill him'' Tsukune's body froze in place, his right fist raised to punch the man in the mouth and hopefully shatter the synthetic teeth which he proudly displayed and claimed to be his true pair.
'What, kill him?' The brunette questioned himself, feeling like a fool for talking to himself in such a way. He was about to write it off as a stress-induced hallucination when it answered, this time having a deep, yet still genderless voice, 'Indeed, kill him. This will be the only thing that will stop him from hurting you.'
The logic was clearly sound; if the man was dead then there would be no way for him to possibly hurt him, to change his god-mother into the lifeless husk which she seemed to become when he was around. Yet, there was fear there, fear that killing him would change him into the man that Ishin was or set him on a path to become like him. Oddly, the voice spoke to him, 'You will have an unquenchable anger, but not from the man. You have a hard life ahead of you boy... Your destiny is in your own hands, but your experiences will always influence your actions. Ultimately though, you are who you make and allow yourself to be.'
The boy nodded to himself once and raised his left arm, as painful as it was and glanced down at the brace he had made for it, allowing a smile fueled with irony and not the least bit of rage towards the man cross his lips. The two wooden bits had been mismatched for a brace as the one which sat on the bottom of his arm stuck out to just before his knuckles and seemed to have a sharp edge originating on the southern-most left edge of the rectangular object.
"Good-bye, Ishin. I'm glad you allowed me to skip on today's lesson and I'm sorry to say, I won't be showing up for anymore." Tsukune stated pleasantly before coking his left arm back and braced himself mentally for the onslaught of pain. Just as he was about to close his eyes and launch his fist forward, the voice told him to look the man in the eye; let him know by staring him down through his death that he, in Tsukune's eyes, deserves his death.
As the wooden pike leaped forward and pierced Ishin's blind eye, his good eye dilated in pain and a choking sound lurched forward from his throat, the pain and the jolt of his brain being punctured was apparently to great to put a sound to. The last thing the child abuser and would-be molester saw in the black-encroaching vision were two blood red orbs staring at him with two languidly swirling comma marks in each eye.
As an author, I am pleased with my prologue as it is and could only hope that you are as well. That being said, as a reader I wish I could have made it longer, but every time I tried, it began to lose its edge.
As stated above, this is the second of two projects which will be updated fairly often (pending certain circumstances) as a way to both entertain you all, entertain myself so I will not simply burn out on writing a single story and most of all, to assist my punctuation, grammar, and overall writing skills so I do not have to rely on the likes of the often faulty auto-correct.
Ah, one last thing; I will have a poll placed up on my profile within the next two weeks -possibly even today- that will be giving hypothetical descriptions of similar, but not exact monsters which will have various usages in both this story and the other. Your job, readers, is to vote for your favorite based on the given description that fits the parameters I have set.
With that, I leave you these parting words. If you have deigned to peruse my work, then do review it for me. Remember; the more critical you review, the better I can become. Yet keep in mind that one cannot run on mere criticism either; praise goes a long way when coupled with a detailed critical eye.
Run along, but remember your favorite author, now.