Merry-Go-Round by RawrTheDinoLycan
Summary: In which there is a King, a Queen, and Pawns. And then there is the Jester, who wants to watch it all burn from her spot in the grave.

Because when you've lost all that you hated there is nothing to do but follow Death's orders, one bloody body at a time. This is not a fairytale. This is the tale of someone ordered to wreak chaos on the shinobi world.

And she can't wait.
Categories: OC-centric Characters: All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Dark, Horror, Tragedy
Warnings: Dark, Death, Sexual Themes
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: No Word count: 1051 Read: 1136 Published: 24/03/13 Updated: 24/03/13
Ride One by RawrTheDinoLycan
Author's Notes:
I know, I know, I know- I really need to finish a story before starting a new one. But this wouldn't leave me alone! The plot bunnies were demanding it be written! The were threatening me with carrots, people, carrots!

Claimer: I own all original characters and plot. Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto, nor am I making money off this story.
"Wake up child,"

Acid green eyes cracked open, blinking into awareness. Darkness surrounded them, nothing but an infinite space of black.

"Where am I?" A voice rasped out, gravelly from misuse.

"You're dead, Darling," another, deeper voice answered with a touch of amusement.

Eyes narrowed, now sparked with a crazed flame- From the darkness teeth bared in a snarl of amusement.

"I remember," those eyes shifted, looking for the other voice. "What is it you want?"

In front of those acid green eyes the darkness swirled, coming together to form the figure of a Jackal. A huge, intimidating Jackal with his teeth bared in a grin and loops decorating his ears. His large eyes sparked with amusement.

"Ah, what is it I want?" The dog barked out, "I want many things from you child, but all of them require you to be... Alive."

"Hmmm, seems we have a problem then,"

The Jackal laughed.

"If life should be granted, would you obey my every command?"

"Would you grant me back what I want most?"

"I shall grant you back what you lost, but only for as long as you hold to your end of our deal,"

The grin came back, psychotic and venomous eyes went alight with blood lust.

"Where do I sign?"

The Jackal barked out a laugh and a blade appeared in front of him.

"In your blood, our contract will form,"

A pale hand, as light as the moon on the earth, reached out from the darkness. Slender fingers grasped the hilt. Another arm appeared, blade poised along the skin. A bit of pressure and blood seeped down, painting rivulets of red along the skin, intertwining with black stitches.

The Contract was signed.


There was a village, small and rather quaint, far to the east of the Village Hidden in Leaves. It sat rather comfortably on the border between the Countries of Fire and Earth. It was made up of one bloodline and a handful of immigrant civilians with nowhere else to go.

Well. It used to be made up of them.

Now nothing stood in the village, any person or animal. The small dwellings had long since decayed and crumbled, while the larger ones were now bolstered by a crumbling foundation. The charred wood and scorched earth spoke of fire- The remnants of a great flurry of flames that had overtaken the village, though no ashes littered the ground. Time had taken its toll, and the wind had swept away the rest.

In the middle of the village was a barren patch of soil. If one cared to look then a glance around would tell them that it had been the village square, once upon a time ago. No grandiose building in front of it, so no one person led the now extinct people.

However, there was one peculiar characteristic of this square. The ground seemed to rise up in the very center of it. A mound of some sort, completely uncharacteristic when compared to the strict remnants of its surroundings, but still it stood in the center as if it had always been there.

Ah, more than one peculiarity, actually. To the far right of the rubble, just on the outskirt of the forest there was a cemetery. Small crosses and huge tombstones decorated the small plot of land. It, unlike the ruined village sitting next to it, was untouched by everything except the natural weathering of time. The fire and sheer violence that destroyed the rubble next door had completely skipped it over, not even skimming its surface. Quite unusual.

But wait, there’s more.

Back in the village square, just to the left of where the mound bulged, the earth seemed to shift. It almost resembled water whenever a breeze would gently stir its waves. But soon it became like a hurricane, and the earth began to tremble and shake. The rubble around it wavered, and for one brief, gloriously terrifying moment it seemed like it would all just tumble down.

But the rubble held and soon the earth calmed again. Now, however, there was a multitude of cracks in the ground, though they all seemed to curve around the mound in the middle. That spot in the left, where everything started, resembled the state of a crumbled cookie.

All was still. The wind held its breath.

And then a stirring, underneath that cracked spot. The dirt shifted before coming still again.

And then an arm as mangled and pale as a long dead corpse sprung out. Black lines danced and entwined along the arm, the only spot of color along the dead looking flesh. They resembled stitches, as if someone had found the broken arm and attempted to sew it back together like some morbid child’s rag doll.

Whoever decided to sew it was quit horrible, as the bone stuck out in numerous places. There was a black crust around the puncture wounds. It chipped away as the slender- bonelike- hand began clawing at the ground.

Well. Soon another arm managed to break through its underground dwelling, looking just as gnarled and mangled as its companion. Both hands began scrabbling at the ground, pushing down and clawing out.

There was a brief pause before both arms tensed and pushed against the earth. A torso broke free from the ground and quickly wriggled its legs out from the grave. It was nothing more than a skeleton, really, covered by papery thin skin and the remnants of shredded clothing that did nothing to hide its concaved body. The head was topped by a few strands of gray hair. The black stitches continued to twine up and down and around the glorified skeleton.

Its chest wracked and rattled with the sound of its ragged breathing. Its head tilted forward, hiding whatever grotesque face the thing must have.

A pause. The chest quit moving. The thing continued to stare down at its hands, which moved restlessly against the dirt.

Then a noise rumbled in the chest. A sound remniscent of a cat hacking and a dying man gasping for breath. The sound grew and traveled from the chest and out the things mouth.

The thing threw its head back and let the sound escape.

It was laughter. Crazed, horrible, maniacal, terrifying laughter.

Well... Isn't this interesting?
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