Dream: 001
He dug his fingers through the green vest of the man before him, and a large grin pried its way onto his face. A sharp, shrill laughter encompassed the air as it felt like something was finally being accomplished in this hellhole. Blood began to cover his dirt-ridden fingers, and just as fast as they had pierced the man's chest, Hidan ripped it out, taking some skin and blood with his hand. It splattered a bit at his feet, and it felt fucking good. And it wasn't even the best part!
Moving his hand up to his face, he stared down at the blood dripping from his fingertips down onto his cloak and the ground. It sent a chill through his spine. It was time for his ceremony, and it would be one that would be pure ecstasy. He licked his fingers, swallowing every last portion of it that he got on his hands, and then he moved his foot over the splatter of blood from before. It seemed as if the jounin before him wasn't going to do anything out of sheer fear, but it didn't matter anymore. Nothing could stop him now, just as he made the very same symbol that did in so many other people. The genocide would begin here.
His skin turned black, and he watched as the bone-like appearance took form over his arms. The chill returned, and his grin grew even wider, if it were possible. Even if it weren't, he found a way to grin. And out came the spike from under his cloak, and the noise it echoed from extending was so loud that it seemed to linger. It was the sound of the Grim Reaper about to take his soul. Another shrill noise came from Hidan's mouth, but it was of anticipation, as he flipped the spike to an underhanded position, then jabbed it into his chest, right into his lung. He gasped as the air escaped him, but then started to laugh. It felt so good.
The heathen crumbled down to his knees with a pained choke of breath as his body violently jerked in response like a marionette puppet connected by strings. Silver hair matted with blood fell across his mismatched eyes. The sight made Hidan shriek in laughter, and the laughter echoed around as if there were ten of him. There was no way his victim could escape this trap. Their bodies were now connected with a holy thread. Hidan's grip tightened around the spike that was covered in his own blood, and began to thrust it into himself in almost every vital organ excluding the heart. The pain was pure ecstasy just as he had anticipated, and he bent back, almost as if he were having some sort of climax.
Every stab made the sacrifice's body seize, shaking and snapping towards and against the unseen force that split through him. And when it was over, there was a moment of silence -- then the man slowly fell forward and slammed face-first into the ground. Blood darkened the green of his vest into dark brown as it seeped out in a pool under him. Somehow he was still alive, each desperate breath of air he took coming in and out in choked, wet wheezes.
The instability of Hidan's own mind kept feeding him more and more ideas of torture, and all in the theme of revenge for what he did to him. He stepped forward, leaving his ritual circle, to pick up the man by his hair and raise him to face him. His face rose to the levels of enjoyment once again, and then he raised his fingers to the eye socket of that wretched eye of his. The red eye that was the bane of any ninja's existence. And he jabbed his fingers into it, and began to gouge it right out of its socket; pulling, squeezing, and laughing like a madman all at once.
His victim would've screamed if he had any breath left, but all the sound he made was a gurgle of blood that dripped through his dark blue mask, saturating through the fabric, and turning it purple. The empty eye socket seemed to mock him as it bled, dripping red angry drops that carved down the side of his exposed cheek before soaking into the material of the mask. This all caused Hidan to burst out in the most maniacal laughter he had within him, as he instantly turned his spike to the dying man before him, and stabbed the weapon into his stomach, ripping it across him in a brutal fashion, even going as far as to dig his hand into the wound to rip out and fuck around with his insides.
And with his bare hands, he began to empty him out, pulling out his intestines like they were some sort of rope coiled up within. The blood poured out, as Hidan just kept pulling them out, inch by inch, foot by foot. It was almost endless until he just ripped out the entire bulk of it with the spike, and dumped it upon the ground, stomping on it with his blood soaked feet. It was just so much pleasure. He just kept stomping, eventually jumping up and down into it. Soon enough, it was just a thick puddle of its former self. He calmed down, and just burst into laughter for a good ten minutes straight, blood pouring from his own wounds, but it didn't even matter to him.
Finally, curiosity got the best of him, and he moved towards the empty corpse on the ground. His blood stained fingers moved towards the mask that has covered his face as long as Hidan knew the man, which wasn't that long at all, though it was enough to make him curious. He grabbed the cloth, pulling it down without hesitation or remorse.
---
[Now there would be a head without a body laughing in response to his own dream.] Kakashi... I'm gonna fucking kill you! I swear!
Moving his hand up to his face, he stared down at the blood dripping from his fingertips down onto his cloak and the ground. It sent a chill through his spine. It was time for his ceremony, and it would be one that would be pure ecstasy. He licked his fingers, swallowing every last portion of it that he got on his hands, and then he moved his foot over the splatter of blood from before. It seemed as if the jounin before him wasn't going to do anything out of sheer fear, but it didn't matter anymore. Nothing could stop him now, just as he made the very same symbol that did in so many other people. The genocide would begin here.
His skin turned black, and he watched as the bone-like appearance took form over his arms. The chill returned, and his grin grew even wider, if it were possible. Even if it weren't, he found a way to grin. And out came the spike from under his cloak, and the noise it echoed from extending was so loud that it seemed to linger. It was the sound of the Grim Reaper about to take his soul. Another shrill noise came from Hidan's mouth, but it was of anticipation, as he flipped the spike to an underhanded position, then jabbed it into his chest, right into his lung. He gasped as the air escaped him, but then started to laugh. It felt so good.
The heathen crumbled down to his knees with a pained choke of breath as his body violently jerked in response like a marionette puppet connected by strings. Silver hair matted with blood fell across his mismatched eyes. The sight made Hidan shriek in laughter, and the laughter echoed around as if there were ten of him. There was no way his victim could escape this trap. Their bodies were now connected with a holy thread. Hidan's grip tightened around the spike that was covered in his own blood, and began to thrust it into himself in almost every vital organ excluding the heart. The pain was pure ecstasy just as he had anticipated, and he bent back, almost as if he were having some sort of climax.
Every stab made the sacrifice's body seize, shaking and snapping towards and against the unseen force that split through him. And when it was over, there was a moment of silence -- then the man slowly fell forward and slammed face-first into the ground. Blood darkened the green of his vest into dark brown as it seeped out in a pool under him. Somehow he was still alive, each desperate breath of air he took coming in and out in choked, wet wheezes.
The instability of Hidan's own mind kept feeding him more and more ideas of torture, and all in the theme of revenge for what he did to him. He stepped forward, leaving his ritual circle, to pick up the man by his hair and raise him to face him. His face rose to the levels of enjoyment once again, and then he raised his fingers to the eye socket of that wretched eye of his. The red eye that was the bane of any ninja's existence. And he jabbed his fingers into it, and began to gouge it right out of its socket; pulling, squeezing, and laughing like a madman all at once.
His victim would've screamed if he had any breath left, but all the sound he made was a gurgle of blood that dripped through his dark blue mask, saturating through the fabric, and turning it purple. The empty eye socket seemed to mock him as it bled, dripping red angry drops that carved down the side of his exposed cheek before soaking into the material of the mask. This all caused Hidan to burst out in the most maniacal laughter he had within him, as he instantly turned his spike to the dying man before him, and stabbed the weapon into his stomach, ripping it across him in a brutal fashion, even going as far as to dig his hand into the wound to rip out and fuck around with his insides.
And with his bare hands, he began to empty him out, pulling out his intestines like they were some sort of rope coiled up within. The blood poured out, as Hidan just kept pulling them out, inch by inch, foot by foot. It was almost endless until he just ripped out the entire bulk of it with the spike, and dumped it upon the ground, stomping on it with his blood soaked feet. It was just so much pleasure. He just kept stomping, eventually jumping up and down into it. Soon enough, it was just a thick puddle of its former self. He calmed down, and just burst into laughter for a good ten minutes straight, blood pouring from his own wounds, but it didn't even matter to him.
Finally, curiosity got the best of him, and he moved towards the empty corpse on the ground. His blood stained fingers moved towards the mask that has covered his face as long as Hidan knew the man, which wasn't that long at all, though it was enough to make him curious. He grabbed the cloth, pulling it down without hesitation or remorse.
---
[Now there would be a head without a body laughing in response to his own dream.] Kakashi... I'm gonna fucking kill you! I swear!