A Series of Unfortunate Events [Flashback, P]

Monsters, hellish demons, were chasing Mack through an unknown realm of darkness. Mack could not see anything in the immediate vicinity, even with his byakugan activated, it was all just black. However, in the distance, Mack could see something, very far away. It was some sort of light, some sort of divine presence, however, the more Mack ran, the further away the light got; it was fading off into the distance. Mack was sweating from the effort of keeping up this run, he must have been running for a good mile by now, yet, the demons remained at the same distance, no matter how far Mack ran or how fast he ran. Mack looked down at his body, continuing to run. He was completely naked, not a stitch of clothing covered Mack’s body. Mack screamed, a blood-curdling yell filled with fear. Mack had not felt emotions for a very long time, the least of which was fear, yet, Mack was filled with utter terror at this moment, it was coursing through his veins. Mack looked over his shoulders as he ran, looking at the demons behind him for the first time. One of them was a big, metal, monster of a man, so bulky and distorted that Mack did not even know whether to consider him a human being or not. He had big red eyes that bulged out of his face, they had no pupils, nor irises, just a blank, bloody red color. He had a large nose, that could be considered more of a snout from the way it stuck out of his face. His mouth was but a tiny, thin line. This man, this thing, was muscled to the point where he did not even resemble a human anymore, muscles bulged out of his frame in places where one would think there would not even be any muscles. The man made terrifying snorting and yelling sounds as he bounded after Mack, keeping a steady pace. Mack looked to the left of this demon, seeing a short, thin, deformed looking baby of a man. This thing was extremely short, he couldn’t have been more than two feet tall. He had a few strands of wet, greasy hair on his head. His skin was a deathly pale, pasty color, and he had little of it. It was thinly wrapped around his body so that all of his features stuck out and you could even see some of the inner parts of his anatomy. Veins and arteries bulged out of this skin, making a prominent appearance. The thing’s forehead bulged out over the rest of the features of his face, a sunken nose, malformed, almost nonexistent ears, large, beady eyes, a mouth with no lips, just snarling fangs with saliva foaming from it. Mack could see every single one of the thing’s ribs, sticking out through the skin. He seemed to have no muscle, Mack could easily wrap his thumb and index finger around his arms. This thing was frighteningly fast, it was running on all fours, foaming at the mouth, barreling after Mack while making depraved animal noises. Behind these two things, there was some sort of man, he was white, ghostly, and had no face. Instead of arms, he had long, black tentacles, they must have been a good 9 feet long. This man was about 15 feet tall, yet very thin, his presence was large and foreboding, he radiated a cold evil, an evil and coldness that surpassed the evil and coldness that even Mack harbored in his heart. The man wore an expensive suit with a purple tie, yet his legs seemed to fade away at the shins, he was merely hovering in the air, keeping pace with the two demons in front of him. Above these three, there flew a stone gargoyle, his large and powerful wings propelling him along at the same, magnificent speed as his counterparts. The gargoyle had glowing yellow eyes, and appeared to be a winged dog. It had a terrifying, yet supremely elegant and stately face, his figure was such as well. The gargoyle was smiling an evil smile, filled with malice, baring it’s powerful fangs. Mack screamed again, this time even louder, yet he was greeted by the same cold echo that he was before. Mack was getting tired, very tired, his limbs feeling heavy, he was panting as if he was going to drop dead at any second, he knew that he would have to stop running soon. After a few more paces, Mack slowed, and came to a stop. 
Surprisingly, when he stopped, the demons pursuing him did as well. All of a sudden, right in front of Mack, a large, red face materialized in front of him. It was the face of a human, but very elegantly handsome and beautiful, with a thin, pencil mustache resting above the upper lip. The face had high cheekbones and a noble, angular jaw. It’s eyes were a piercing black color, that seemed to stare into the very depths of Mack’s soul. Mack looked at the face with a mixture of awe, and terror. The face was much larger than Mack, a good two times his size. Mack looked over his shoulder to see that the demons behind him had gotten down on one knee, their heads lowered in a sign of respect towards their master. Mack slowly turned his head to face the man again. He was now grinning, a grin of amusement and hidden malice.

“Hello Mack...” the face said to him in a tone that reflected the same amusement that the man’s facial expression did, “I’ve been watching you...how long are you going to just sit there and let your life waste away, in the eternal servitude of the Yutakas?” The man had a very deep voice, so deep that it was almost distorted, it was almost demonic, certainly not the voice of a human. Yet, the man spoke eloquently and thoughtfully, his voice was persuasive.

“I...uh I...” Mack’s voice trailed off, he was still in awe of the large, evil, and foreboding presence in front of him. The face just laughed, a deep chuckle, filled with a sort of evil amusement, like he was being entertained by Mack.

“You don’t have to say anything Mack, let me do the talking if you aren’t ready to speak. The Yutakas, they have brought nothing but misery to you and your family for generations, practically enslaving your whole branch of the Hyuuga. Now, I know that your servitude is voluntary, and that you are being adequately payed for your services, but the way they treat you just isn’t right Mack. Neither you, nor your father, nor his father, nor even his father, had any liberties under the watch of the Yutakas. Did you have a childhood Mack? Did you get to go out and play with all the other little boys and girls? While everyone around you was training and becoming shinobi, you just sat there and wasted away, serving those cruel slave workers. Your poor father died under their watch, still a slave, never experiencing a true life full of happiness like most other people get. Your mother died giving birth to you because the Yutakas refused to get her proper medical attention and proper care as she gave birth. They destroyed the only thing that your father ever cared about. All that was left to your father was you, you, who they demanded your father to give up to them as a servant from the day you were born. When your father died, he had to die knowing that his son would be doomed to the same dark and depressing life that he had lived since birth. He wanted something better for you Mack...he wanted you to do something great...something that negated the cruel treatment your family has undergone for years. But I’m sure you sensed this Mack, isn’t that why you enrolled in the academy when you were 9 years old? Isn’t that why you passed the academy with flying colors, not just that, but achieving higher scores than even the students who had been there for year? You graduated at the top of your class Mack, the best Kumo-nin of your generation. Yet, you were forced to hide that from your father and the Yutakas...you knew that they would not approve...All that talent that you had Mack, you wasted it. Such a horrible waste of potential. You could have gone out there, done missions, made your own money, and pried you and your father from the clutch of the Yutaka family, yet, you never did. You chose to cower in the corner, scared of the wrath that might be inflicted by the Yutakas for your perceived sins. Why Mack? Why would you do such a thing, throw away such an amazing and great opportunity? But I ask you Mack...I ask you...is it too late? It might be too late for your father, for he has passed on, but is it too late for you Mack? You are a young man of just 22 years, you are still spry and agile, you haven’t forgotten what you learned at the academy. I ask you Mack, what do you have to lose? You can either condemn yourself and any offspring you may someday produce to eternal servitude of the Yutakas...or...you can do something about it. You can still take yourself out of the situation you are currently stuck in. What if the Yutakas were to say...disappear? Nobody would suspect the faithful butler, who had gone into their room one day to find them missing. Even if they were to implicate you in this whole scenario, what could they punish you with that could be worse than the sorrow and resentment you already hold in your heart?”

Mack watched and listened with wide eyes as the face spoke, images flashing through his head of his wasted life. There was a photo of his pregnant mother and his father, holding hands in a grassy green valley somewhere. There was his grandfather Charlie, cleaning a vase in the Yutaka estate. There was Mack, at a young age, watching from a high window, as all of the other little boys and girls played and laughed in the street. There was young Mack, holding his father’s hand as they walked down the street to the candy store. There was Mack’s father, teaching Mack a card trick in the candle-lit butler’s quarters. There was the old Yutaka couple, scolding Mack’s father for not mopping the floor the right way, taking away a month’s pay and having him viciously beaten as young Mack watched from a corner. There was Mack’s dad, stressing because the Yutakas had been withholding his pay for the third year in a row. There was his father sobbing over a picture of Mack’s late mother. There was Mack sneaking out of the Yutaka mansion to attend classes at the academy. There was Mack’s report card, all perfect marks, the top of his class. There was Mack, claiming his headband as he ranked up to gennin, only to have to hide it when he got home. There was one image, one memory, that struck Mack very clearly, that hit him very hard. It was just last year, on Mack’s twenty first birthday, his father was only 61. He was there, lying on his bed in the butler’s quarters, holding Mack’s hand as he uttered his last words and life left his eyes. He was telling Mack that he loved him, and that he should never lose hope, even though his eyes reflected an utter lack of hope. Mack had deduced that the cause of his father’s death must have been pure heartbreak and hopelessness, for he was very healthy and spry for his age. There was Mack, arguing with the Yutakas, for they were prohibiting him from holding a proper funeral and burial for his father. They had buried him, without a tombstone, in an undisclosed location. They claimed all of his belongings and money, which was a sparse collection of a mear 362 ryo for the half of a century that he had been working for the Yutakas. There was Mack, sobbing for nights on end on his cot, mourning the loss of his father. There was Mack, mindlessly obeying the orders of the Yutakas, never being payed. Finally, there was Mack, celebrating his 22nd birthday alone.

As these images flew through Mack’s brain, he was filled with utter rage, utter hatred for the Yutakas, he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He listened to the large face speak, and finally got what he was saying. He was suggesting that Mack kill the Yutakas. A look of shock occupied Mack’s face upon this understanding, he took a few steps back, bumping into the large, metal demon. The face started to chuckle, transitioning into a terrifying, hysterical, maniacal laugh. The laugh was even more deep and distorted than before. Mack started to scream. His screams mingled with the devil’s laughs created a hellish symphony of devilish laughter and blood-curdling screams. The cacophony began to echo throughout the whole realm, growing so loud that it began to hurt Mack’s ears. All of a sudden the face of Satan morphed into the face of Mack’s father. He was bloodied and beaten, an expression of pure agony on his face.

“Kill them...” said Mack’s father, in a weakened, voice filled with agony and defeat. Mack looked into the eyes of his dead father and began to sob uncontrollably as he screamed, the devil continued to laugh. The mixture of the sounds began to overpower Mack, yet he could not stop screaming or crying, and the devil did not cease in his taunting laughter. Mack covered his ears. Instantly, the face of his father snapped back into the face of the devil, who opened his mouth wide, creating a gaping, black hole. Mack felt a powerful push from behind and was propelled into the mouth of the devil, where he was swallowed whole. As he descended into the throat of the devil, the sounds from outside began to grow muffled, began to die down, as if Mack was hearing them from underwater Mack was falling into nothingness, a deep, dark, hopeless abyss. Just empty space. As Mack fell, he felt weakened, his eyes grew heavy and his eyes started to close...




Mack shot up in his bed, immediately awakening. He was in a cold sweat, the sights and sounds of his dream burned into his mind. He was panting heavily. He examined his body, making sure he was unharmed; thankfully, he was. As Mack’s head began to clear, he recalled his dream, he seemed to have taken one thing from his dream with him, his burning hatred and desire to kill the Yutakas. He slowly and stiffly got up, walking over to the shower. He took a freezing shower, shooting into full consciousness and awareness. His shower was over in 5 minutes. Mack got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He clutched the edge of his sink and peered into the mirror, looking at himself for a long time. His face reminded him of something, it reminded him of the face that had spoken to him in his dream. That voice was still repeating itself over and over in his mind, a hellish echo. Mack slowly and purposefully got dressed, slipping on his usual clothes, complete with his monocle. Mack made his way downstairs to find the Yutakas already sitting at the table, waiting for him to serve them breakfast as they read the newspaper.

“Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Yutaka, how are you both on this lovely morning?” Mack friendly and energetically greeted the couple.

“You’re late,” Mr. Yutaka replied coldly, ignoring Mack’s greeting.

“I apologize sir, I had a rough night,” Mack tried to explain himself. He was ignored. Mack made tea and biscuits for the couple, he served them quickly, knowing they would be mad if he kept them waiting. Mack then went off to perform his usual duties. He mowed the vast lawn, trimmed the hedges, and tended to the entire landscape. It was about 100 acres, so this was a hard task. Thankfully, there were other, payed, gardeners and workers to make the job go faster. Mack finished up with the exterior at 12 o’clock noon, leaving him time to do his chores in the interior as well. Mack mopped all the floors of the estate, polished all of the valuables, impeccably cleaned every surface, groomed Mrs. Yutaka’s pet poodle. Mack finished all of this at 3 o’clock. When finished, Mack retreated to the butler’s corners and changed into some clothes suitable for training. Mack left the estate and began to jog downtown, he needed to prepare for what was in store tonight. Mack leisurely jogged all the way to the downtown village. He ran around the main square, admiring the sites he seldom got to see. There were food carts, children running an playing, groups of teenagers hanging out. Mack thought that people took these sites for granted, as they got to see them everyday and didn’t know what it was like to be locked up in a house for their whole life. Mack gazed at the scenic landscape, the healthy, green vegetation, the mountains in the distance, the rolling hills, the dirt road leading up to the training grounds. Mack followed the road leading up to the training grounds, he needed to refresh his abilities before attempting to put them to work tonight. Mack arrived at the training grounds at 5 o’clock, after about 2 hours of jogging. Mack breathed in the cool evening air when he arrived at the training grounds, he also took note of the landscape. There was a ring of trees surrounding the area, the area in which Mack was standing had no grass, it was just dirt, as it had been worn out by the feet of so many people. Mack noticed the 6 training dummies standing next to each other in a horizontal line about 5 meters in front of him. There was a good meter or two of space in between each dummy. Mack decided to get a head start training his Hyuuga techniques, the Gentle Fist. Mack began to form small blades of chakra on the palms of each of his hands, he had never attempted to use these techniques before, he figured that now was a good time to start. Mack knew that he Hyuuga Gentle Fist techniques worked by sealing off the opponent’s tenketsu, thereby prohibiting their chakra from flowing the way that it normally did. Mack knew that to accomplish this, the user had to insert their own chakra into the opponent’s tenketsu, hence the small blades of chakra that could be used to penetrate the opponent’s chakra network. The Gentle Fist was a truly powerful and devastating fighting style, as it took away a ninja’s most powerful and necessary asset: their chakra. The Gentle Fist also had the capability of damaging the opponent’s internal organs by attacking tenketsu linked to these organs. Perhaps the best part about the gentle fist however, was that it required almost no force at all to cause this serious damage to the opponent. A mere tap could seal off multiple tenketsu and stun and immobilize the opponent. When the chakra blades on Mack’s hands were completed, he charged towards the first dummy. Upon reaching the dummy, Mack thrusted out wards with both hands, palms facing outwards, in an exaggerated and very powerful push. This proved to be much more force than necessary, pieces of wood from the dummy were blown off and scattered everywhere, the sturdy dummy also developed some large cracks from the hit. This was not what Mack wanted, Mack wanted to learn how to attack very gently and quickly, so that he did not have to waste any speed or energy. This was the true essence of the gentle fist, the ability to defeat the opponent with mere taps of the hand. Mack decided to try again. He was now right in front of the dummy, perhaps this would be a better angle and distance to attack from. Mack tried a series of very quick, gunshot-like strikes, similar to what he had seen other kinsmen use when practicing the Gentle Fist Technique. This was much better, yet the dummy still rocked back and forth each time, Mack was still hitting him too hard.

Mack trained and trained and trained, until dark came and it was around 8 o’clock. At this point, Mack’s hands were slicing through the air as if it was butter and his hands were knives. He was barely even touching the dummy each time, merely making contact. If this was a human, there would not be any significant external damage, if any at all. The person’s chakra network would be completely dead by now however, as Mack had hit nearly every single square inch of the dummy. This would have sealed off all of an opponent’s chakra, causing at least immobilization, if not death. Mack was proud of his progress today, he had done a significant amount of training and learned many new techniques, however, he knew that he had to return to the Yutaka estate, he knew that the time had come. Mack checked his watch, confirming that it was 8 o’clock. He knew that the Yutaka couple went to bed at around 10 o’clock, and the estate was on the other side of the village in a very secluded area. Mack figured that by the time he returned, the Yutakas would be asleep. Mack made the same jog back that he had coming down to the training grounds. He moved at a leisurely pace, timing himself so that by the time he got back, it would be 10 o’clock sharp, and the Yutakas would surely be in bed. However, along the way, Mack thought of something. What was he going to kill them with? He did not have any weapons or ninja tools of his own, and if he used a knife from the Yutakas own kitchen, investigators would find the knife missing, clearly implicating Mack, as he was the only one in the house with access to the kitchen besides the Yutakas. Mack figured out a simple solution for this. He knew where the Yutaka couple purchased all of their cutlery, it was a high end shop in downtown Kumogakure, near the village square. Mack changed the course of his jog to take him through there, so he could purchase a knife that he could use to replace the one that he planned to murder the Yutakas with. As Mack approached the village square, he noticed that not nearly as many people were out at this time of night, it was very peaceful, and Mack felt a sense of peace and solitude being one of the only ones out on this beautiful night. Mack went into the store, hiding his face as best he could. He took the little money that he always kept with him out of his pocket and purchased a new, large knife, the same knife that Mrs. Yutaka kept in the kitchen and used for many culinary projects. Mack continued his jog back to the house. He arrived at 10 o’clock, and, as he had figured, the Yutakas were already asleep in his bedroom. Mack quietly went to the butler’s quarters and slipped on his pair of expensive leather gloves. He went to the kitchen and washed the knife that he had just bought, making sure to cleanse it of any finger prints or sweat that he may have left. Mack took the knife that was already in the knife holder out and replaced it with the one he had perfect, the two were identical, no investigator would ever be able to figure out what weapon was used for the killings. Mack tiptoed up the stairs to the Yutakas bedroom, making sure not to make a single sound. He treaded lightly, so his footsteps did not make any noise. Mack slowly and quietly pushed open the door to Mr. and Mrs. Yutaka’s bedroom, making sure that it did not make a single creaking noise or slam against the wall. Mack walked over to the bed in the same slow and cautious manner that he had used when entering the room. Mack deftly approached the bed where the two of them lay. Tiptoeing to the side of the bed, Mack glared down at the two vile beings who lay in front of him. The couple utterly disgusted him, just gazing at them, Mack felt the need to cleanse his cornea for processing the image of the filth in front of him. He felt that the two had polluted his field of vision. Mack peered down at the couple, the people who had essentially enslaved him his whole entire life. He had grown up hating and resenting these people, they had taken everything from him. He gazed down at Mrs. Yutaka, she had the same, scrunched, weasel-like face as usual, it was truly a disgusting site. She was lying on the left side of the bed, facing outwards. She had a black blindfold strapped to her face, presumably to give her a better sleep. Next, Mack turned his gaze to Mr. Yutaka, who lay on the right side of the bed, facing outwards towards Mack. He had that rich, snobby face and haircut that Mack hated so much. He still had the same, elitist expression as usual, Mack truly hated this man and everything he stood for. Looking at the couple, one could clearly tell that they did not enjoy each other’s company, even as they slept. They were on opposite edges of the bed, facing separate ways, it was as if they wanted to get as far away from each other as they could. Mack decided to start with Mr. Yutaka, as he was on the side of the bed closest to Mack, he would be the easiest and most accessible target. Mack firmly covered the elderly man’s mouth with his left hand, he held the large knife in his right. Upon feeling Mack’s touch, the man’s eyes snapped open, and he made eye contact with Mack. His gaze briefly flickered towards the knife in Mack’s hand before again meeting his gaze, he knew what Mack was doing. His eyes reflected an expression of pure terror, pure fear. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a muffled mumble, not even loud enough to wake the heavily sleeping Mrs. Yutaka. Mack whispered very quietly to the man, not disturbing the old woman, it would soon be her turn.

“Consider this payback,” Mack said “You’re going to die and there is absolutely nothing that you can do about it...I have one question for you...how do your last moments of life feel? How is the utter hopelessness, the feeling of despair, knowing that there is nothing you can do to pry yourself out of this predicament? Well now you know how I have felt my whole life. You’re going to die now Itto,” said Mack, addressing the man by his real name instead of Mr. Yutaka, like he was told to do, “Not even your wealth can save you now.” As Mack finished his sentence, he heard Mr. Yutaka try to scream, however, with Mack’s hand blocking his mouth, all that came out was a very faint and muffled groan. Again, Mrs. Yutaka was not disturbed. Itto tried to grab Mack’s arm with both of his hands deterring the course of the blade, but he was far too old, and Mack was far too strong. Mack pressed the blade against the man’s throat, savoring the last seconds of Itto’s life, savoring the look of terror and despair in the man’s eyes. Mack grinned, pressing the blade down with much more pressure and slicing it along the width of the man’s neck. Mack had cut so deep, that Itto’s vocal cords and windpipe had been severed, along with multiple major arteries, there was no way that Itto was going to live much longer than a few seconds. Even though Mack had cut so deep that the man would not be able to produce a single noise, Mack kept his hand firmly pressed against the man’s mouth, just to be extra cautious. Mack curiously peered into the eyes of the cruel tyrant, as all life fled from them. Soon, all that was left was an empty, blank expression. It was clear that the man was dead. Blood stained and spattered the sheets of the entire bed, yet Mrs. Yutaka had been spared from a single drop of her husband’s blood. She was still sleeping like a baby. Mack slowly walked around to the other side of the bed, where he stood facing the elderly woman. He did not feel that he had anything to say to her. So he decided to make his actions quick, slaughtering the old woman as quickly as possible and retreating to his butler’s quarters. Mack took the knife and chopped downwards with a swift, swooping motion. The blade of the knife hit the side of Mrs. Yutaka’s neck, which was open towards the ceiling. The knife was so sharp, that it sliced through half of Mrs. Yutaka’s neck as if it were butter. Mack had severed several major arteries and cut halfway through the windpipe. Within a few seconds, Mrs. Yutaka died, Mack took no real interest in this killing, he merely watched as she bled out and died. Now that both of the Yutakas were dead, Mack had to find a quick and efficient way to hide both of the bodies. Mack had not left a single trace of DNA, nor a single fingerprint, as he had been wearing leather gloves throughout the entire escapade. Mack wrapped the couple in their blood stained linen, sheets, comforter and all, forming a neat bundle. Mack placed the bundle on the floor, making sure that it was wrapped in such a way that no blood would seep out and onto the carpet or the wood. The sheets were very thick, and there were many of them, so Mack did not need to worry about this. Mack quickly went to the closet and took out an identical set of linen, he knew where everything was, having worked in the house for his entire life. Mack replaced the bloodied sheet which he had just removed and replaced them with the new, clean linen. Mack arranged the sheets and pillows in such a way that it looked like two people had been sleeping in bed and gotten up. Mack next took the bundle containing the bodies of the slain Yutaka couple and hoisted it over his right shoulder. This was not too hard of a task, seeing that the Yutakas were frail and skinny, Mack could easily support their weight. Mack swiftly ran outside and made his way to the shed, lurking in the shadows to avoid being seen by any late night personnel. The shed was not too far from the house, so he did not have to travel a very far distance at all. Once at the shed, Mack unlocked the door with the key that he always carried on him, being the butler. Mack took a large wheelbarrow out of the shed, as well as a shovel. Mack threw the bloody bundle of linen and corpses into the large wheelbarrow, which provided ample room. Next, Mack formed the ‘Ram’ hand seal, transforming into the gardner known as Manny. It would look a lot less suspicious for Manny to be wheeling around a large wheelbarrow with a shovel than it would for the crisp and clean-cut butler to be. Mack, disguised as Manny, wheeled the wheelbarrow into a remote section of the forest. Mack took the shovel that he had been resting on his shoulder and began to dig a 6 foot deep hole. This was hard work, it was good for Mack’s muscles however, and he felt stronger when he had finished. Mack took the bloody bundle and tossed it into the very deep hole, he then filled the hole with the dirt that he had dug up, some more hard work, good for his muscles. Mack buried his bloodied clothes along with the two corpses. When finished disposing of the bodies, Mack made his way back from the burial site to the butler’s quarters, still disguised as Manny. Upon arriving back, he released his transformation and turned back into his naked self. He took a long, hot shower, got dressed in pajamas, and laid down in his bed. mack no longer felt the fierce and burning hatred that he had felt when the Yutakas were still living, he felt strange, he felt at piece. Not just this, but Mack also wasn’t feeling much at all. He did not feel any happiness, no sadness, no anger, no frustration, all he knew was that he wanted to kill again, the thrill he had gotten from killing the Yutakas had been so great, he wanted to replicate the feeling.

Mack fell asleep with a grin on his face, smiling at what the investigation tomorrow might bring.

[Exit]

[TWC = 5,613, +28 stats, +56 JP, counting as training towards gentle fist]

Approved