Each image was worse than the last, but his eyes remained fixed on the path ahead as the pictures flashed across his mind. He blinked again as another image came across his mind: a man standing in a ready stance, positioning himself protectively in front of a frightened woman, a katana pointed threateningly at the both of them.
Squish.
The man lay dead, his innards spilling out onto the wooden floor; the woman was sobbing, pleading—
Tap…tap…tap…
Itachi and the subordinate passed out of the patch of mud, coming onto hard stone floor again. Not a single trap so far. This village really was full of idiots, just like the village he had left nine years previous; the lives of fools were useless lives, lives depending on the lives of the powerful. There was no purpose for fools in this world—there was no point in them living. In his mind he could see the woman lying dead, his thirteen year old self standing over both the bodies, his eyes lingering on the trailing blood—the blood of his parents.
They were all fools, all of them.
"Itachi-sama?"
He turned his gaze to rest on the ninja who accompanied him, and realized that he had been standing still in front of a wall that had risen up before them. A small door was built into the side of the wall, a piece of paper connecting the frame to the slab in the wall: a seal. Fools. They knew enough to fear the terror that was on the other side of the door, but the most they did to protect themselves was to put a simple seal on the door? Reaching out with his hand, he snatched the piece of paper off the door and crumpled it in his hands.
Grasping the handle, he slid the door open, his Sharingan eyes peering perceptively into the room. He motioned for the subordinate to step forward, and upon the entrance of light into the room, there was a cry, followed by some scuffling. Itachi turned his gaze onto the small wretched creature that had scampered into the corner and was not quivering with fear. A girl—late teens—with sandy hair and caramel eyes was curled up in the corner, looking at them in abject terror. Dressed in rags, sporting an anorexic frame, and looking like she had ever bathed in her entire life, Itachi noted with contempt that he had probably never seen a more pitiful creature…save for one other.
Ignoring the girl, he peered up at the ceiling where a grate resided high above; this was probably where food was dropped down. Whoever was keeping this girl was compassionate enough to keep her alive, but did not know that her sickly state could provoke that which they feared to emerge. He looked down at the girl again and took a step forward.
"Come," he ordered in a low tone, but the girl refused to move.
"W-who are you?" she choked out fearfully, wringing her hands in fear.
"I am Uchiha Itachi," he told the girl evenly, "And I have come here to free you."
A curious expression passed over the girl's face, "Free…? But why? …Don't you hate me?"
His voice was devoid of emotion; he took another step forward, "Hate you?"
"Everyone else d-does," the girl seemed nervous about the closing space between them, "That's why they keep me here. They hate me."
"They hate you because they fear you. They fear you because they don't understand you," Itachi said evenly, "I do not hate you, because I do not fear you, and I do not fear you because I understand that which instills fear on this village."
"What are you saying?" the girl hugged her knees; she was pressing herself against the back wall, almost like she hoped it would swallow her.
"There is something kept inside of you, something so powerful and evil that they hate," Itachi replied calmly, "I want it from you, and if you give it to me, they will no longer hate you. But you must come with me, or they will leave you down here forever."
The girl sat up a little straighter, looking at herself in confusion, "Something powerful and evil…"
"A demon resides within you," Itachi took another step, and this time the girl did not flinch away, "Come with me, and I shall free you of it. And when it is gone, you can return here, and they will accept you."
"A-accept me…" the girl murmured, "And all I have to do is come with you?"
"Yes."
There was a long pause before the girl stood slowly to her feet, her legs and arms no more than skin and bone, "I want to come, please…please take me. I'll do anything; just get this thing out of me. I just want them to like me…I don't want to be hated anymore…"
A foolish child, Itachi noted condescendingly, but she was needed. It was only for a while anyways; once the process was complete, the girl would die. A fool's death—an unnoticed death. Apart from the shock and fear that she was missing, the village wouldn't care that she was gone, and over time they would forget her.
He beckoned the child to come forth, and on wobbly legs, the girl did. He ruffled the girl's dirty hair in pretended affection and took the torch from his companion.
"Help her," he ordered coldly as they entered the mouth of the tunnel.
.
.
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