Painful Pasts & Frightening Futures ~Solo~

The rain patted heavily on the window, echoing softly through the small, dimly lit room. Altar sat alone, chest heaving with labored breathing again. The nightmare had returned. It had been gone for so long, but it was back. He got up and walked to the window, pulling back the curtain to find the rain drenching the outside of the window, small flashes of lightning illuminating the outside world for brief periods of time. Sweat still fresh on his forehead, Altar walked to the bathroom after checking the time. Too late to be up, that was for damn sure. But still, it appeared he wasn't getting any sleep tonight, so he jumped in the shower, running the cold water through his hair, before letting the warm water overtake him and let him relax. He leaned up against the shower wall. Hell, he might be able to sleep here...but no, the second he closed his eyes, flashes of the terror he had experienced during his brief amount of sleep came back. Eyes snapping open, he turned the water off, got out, got dressed, and decided on a walk to calm his nerves.

After walking out of his house, Altar chose a random path and started walking. The rain helped calm him, and he decided he'd head for the plains. It was always nice there when it was raining, the water helping to bring out the scent of the flowers, which in turn spread across the entirety of the plains. On the way there, however, he caught wind of a strange conversation...he listened in, and as he did, the color drained from his face.

"You mean that kid's parents? Yeah, that one...what's his name...Altar or something? He's been telling everyone he ran away from home! No...his sister, too? Damn...poor kid. Where did you say? Bandit camp...really? That's not far out...okay, just out west, got it. We'll check it out, thanks" No...this wasn't possible...had his parents, and sister, been kidnapped by bandits? This...no, they were dead. He saw them die, they were gone. There's no way...No. Altar slowly stumbled through the streets, going back home, and sitting down to think about all this. Head heavy in his hands, he knew what he had to do. Deciding, Altar rose from his chair, grabbed his katana from the closet, and went back outside.

This time, he took a bit more of a secretive route. He never used the katana, and someone he knew seeing him with it strapped to his hip would only make it worse for him. He couldn't risk anyone seeing him.

Once well out into the plains, Altar turned to the west. Thoughts ran through his mind, memories that he thought were true scattered around. This was his last chance to turn back. In all reality, this was a fools errand. His parents were dead, and his sister...god only knows what had happened to her. Still, he couldn't turn away. If they were all out there somewhere, then he had to find them. And he had to find them soon. So, without further thought, Altar ran through the plains, heading westward and out to find bandits.

After a short while of running, Altar was, of course, growing tired. There had been no sign of bandits yet, set aside a few footprints, fire remains, another assorted small evidence. But nothing large, nothing to confirm he was getting any closer to their base. Then he saw it. A large puff of smoke reached towards the sky. Altar noted the wind, and decided a rough estimate of where it came from. The strange thing is, it was just the single puff, not a steady stream of smoke. It was as if someone had tried to cover the smoke, but couldn't get to it fast enough. If that was true, logic stood that whoever had lit the fire was now either trying to escape the scene, preparing, or worrying. Knowing that, Altar hurried off as quietly as he could, towards the source of the smoke.

After a short while, he found himself among many trees, and a small campfire. He had been lucky, surrounding the campfire were three men, all stumbling around. Hell, they looked like they were drunk! Noticing the empty bottles and cans scattered everywhere, Altar realized how right he was. He silently cursed himself for finding the drunkard bunch out of them. They'd be easy to dispatch, sure, but not easy to follow to base. However, this was his only lead, meaning he had to wait it out. Realizing this, Altar got comfy in the tree, watching the men lurch about, waiting for them to move.

Okay, this was ridiculous. After an hour, they showed no sign of going back to base. Fine, they wanted to be difficult? Then they'd get what was coming to them. Altar stood up, slowly unsheathing the katana. It gave an almost sinister glint in the moonlight, as if knowing what he was planning on. Altar dropped down to bushes below, the glint and sound catching the bandits attention. They may have been hammered, but they weren't fools. That had gotten them a little scared. Knowing this was a good course of action, Altar's plan went into action.

First, to lure the guard far to the left away from the open. This was achieved simply by rustling some leaves and bushes, and making scraping noises on the trees and dirt. After luring the guard well out of eyesight, Altar dropped from his perch in the tree, sheathing his katana firmly in the man's back, in the third vertebrae of the spine. Near instantaneous death befell the man. What a shame, Altar thought, he didn't even get to relish the pain. Next came the second guard he had seen, sleeping in one of the tents set up. This one would be easy. Altar crept into the tent, snipping small bits off of the sleeping man to make him look gruesome and frightening. The last step would surely alert both guards, so Altar had to be quick. Preparing the tent door, Altar took the katana and, in one swift motion, cut the sleeping man's face off. After this, Altar rushed outside, hiding behind the tent. It turned out to his delight, as the other guard came running, saw the gruesome bandit, now yelling and screaming in pain, and ran. Seeing this, Altar went back up to the faceless guard, cupped a hand over what was his mouth, and slowly slit his throat. After doing this, Altar would follow the remaining bandit, hoping to get lead back to main base.

All according to plan. Altar was lead directly back to the bandit base, the screaming man now pleading with a man, that seemed to be the leader of them, to not send him back to the campsite. Apparently, the leader took this as insubordination, and swiftly executed the man, tearing him literally limb from limb. Altar smirked. He liked this man. However, he would need to kill him...what a shame. However...how to go about it. Now, that was the question. There were many ways. Altar noted the many entrances to the camp, some surrounded by forests and other natural growth, providing many open paths and hidden paths and openings into the camp. That would allow for stealth. He then swung his head around, looking for any other ways. He noted the many red barrels around, with danger symbols branding them. So, he could set off a mass explosion and create a panic. That would allow for a, hopefully, somewhat easy entrance, as everyone would be too concerned with the fire to notice him slaughtering them, one by one. That was when he saw it. Well, not it. Them. Altar's eyes opened wide as he saw bandits, walking off with his sister, bound and gagged. No...NO! Altar wouldn't allow this to happen. There was no way this was going to pass. So, it was decided. Let the game begin. 

Altar, with a loud roar, charged into the camp, slashing across a man's chest as he attempted to stop the Genin from attacking the camp. As he fell, Altar grabbed a lighter from his pockets, stabbed a hole in one of the barrels, and kicked it away. He then threw the lighter, lit, towards the barrel, which had now come to rest at about the center of the encampment. Altar had no idea of the destruction that would cause. Turns out, a giant explosion, along with cloth tents and human flesh, and grass everywhere, was not a good combination. Altar rose to his feet, the sickening smell of burning flesh in the air. Screams of pure agony and pain ripped through the air, as a mighty blaze of a fire roared through the sky, illuminating the small camp. All of this, Altar took in at once. It was all so...beautiful. All this destruction, mayhem, and suffering, all because of him. It was enough to bring a genuine smile to his face. As Altar paraded through the camp, he stopped occasionally at a body, corpse or still alive, and delivered a slash across the neck, a stab the throat, or any other life ending wound. Others, he sat with. Talked to them as they suffered and begged him to end it all. He'd normally pay them no attention, or shush them before continuing on, letting them squirm before they die. After what they had done, they all deserved to suffer. Everyone deserved to suffer. Finally, the leader came out from his tent, rolling on the ground to alleviate a grand fire set on his back. After doing so, he had turned his head to see the Genin, bursting in laughter. Altar took one look at the man, who know had a completely confused look on his face, and laughed once again. His face was just too rich! However, Altar's laugh died in his throat when the huge man rose, and grabbed him by the throat. The comical look of confusion had now been replaced by a look of hatred and rage. The man seemed intent on ending Altar's life. He threw Altar to the ground and stomped on his ribs. Altar hacked up a wad of blood, swallowing hard, barely having time to savor the iron after taste. He was almost sure that had broken a few ribs. This man didn't seem all that smart, but damn if he wasn't big. He easily towered over Altar, and had muscles as big as his head. He bent down to whisper something to Altar. He didn't seem to think it registered, which it hadn't, so the man picked Altar back up, whispering right in his ear this time.

"Let me tell you something, boy. You never mess with someone bigger than you. You always lose." The man said, laughing wildly and throwing his head back as he said that. Oh, hell no. Altar sure as hell wasn't going to take that shit from anyone.

"Now let me tell you something. Never underestimate a psychotic, sadistic child that saw what you did to his sister." Altar would say, slowly reaching for the sword strapped to his hip. The man's face grew serious, sobered at that comment. He seemed frozen. That was all the opportunity he needed. Altar swung his katana around, slicing the man's arm clean off and twisting around. The arm fell to the ground, amputated at the elbow now, and Altar landed, one knee on the ground. He turned back to face the man, and saw him clutching the stump that had once held his forearm. The man was screaming bloody murder, as Altar slowly walked over to him, lightning slowly forming and becoming increasingly evident in his hand. As he got nearer to the man, the man continuously backed up, eventually tripping and falling to the ground. Altar knelt beside him, smirking, as he put one hand over his mouth, and shoved the other through the man's chest, piercing and obliterating his heart. A warm splash of crimson found it's way onto his face, as Altar's smirk turned into a smile.

Altar sat back, slowly shifting away from the body as he wiped the blood from his face. As much as he loved to enjoy a kill, especially one of that caliber, he didn't want blood soaking his coat. Dry cleaning the damn thing was already expensive enough, he didn't need some bastard cleaner asking questions about where so much blood had come from. There were only so many excuses he could use. And besides, as of the moment, he was a bit strapped for cash. Well, he always was, but now more so than normal. As Altar was thinking about all this, a frown slowly working it's way on to his face, he subconsciously saw a figure moving off in the distance. That...didn't seem normal. He was sure he had killed most, if not all, of the bandits. And besides, this figure had a more feminine shape to it, and he hadn't seen any female bandits. Hopefully he hadn't skipped appearances in his bloodlust state. Now that he looked...Altar saw no weapons on this figure, and in fact, now it fell to it's knees, clutching it's head in it's hands. A small sound started echoing through the clearend and now hollow camp. A sound of immense sorrow. The figure was sobbing. Altar decided it was best to check it out. So, he walked towards the figure, slowly coming closer to it. As he got closer, flames dancing across the shadows of the night, he saw that it was indeed a female. As he walked closer, kneeling in front of the girl when he was in front if her, he noticed a few things. One, this girl had been severely beaten. No cuts marred her skin, but bruises decorated her on every side. Two, she hadn't noticed him approach her. Strange, as he had been moving fairly slowly. Thrid, this girl was his sister. She slowly raised her head from her hands, and looked at him.

Her bright green eyes sparkled with fresh tears, rivers down her cheeks making lines, separating the dusty skin from the newly wet. Altar kneeled in front of her, his face full of agony and sorrow, but not a word leaving his mouth. He let her run her eyes across him, idly wondering if she'd even recognize him. He almost let out a sigh of relief when recognition flitted across her eyes, and she gasped. She reached out a hand to touch him, as if not believing he could even be real. When her hand made impact, Altar let out a small smile.

"It's me, Dawn. It's your brother. I came here to save you, are you all right?" Altar asked her, hoping she was okay, hoping he had gotten there in time. She didn't respond, instead, her eyes and hand wandered across his right shoulder. It was then that he noticed the cut he had gathered, and the pattern of scars that was revealed. Slowly, realization seemed to dawn on Dawn. Her eyes flickered to his, and she shuddered, then moved away from him. Altar's face grew worried, but she just kept moving away. After a short while, Altar stood, as did Dawn, and she started to run from him. As she turned, she let out a small scream, falling and clutching her leg in pain. Altar moved to her swiftly, looking to see what the problem was. Her legs had been badly burnt, and there was blood leaking from cuts here and there. The cuts looked semi-serious, but not life threatening. Just enough...just enough so she couldn't escape. While Altar had been studying her, she had slowly been trying to squirm away from him. He laid his hand gently on her, hoping to calm her down. He was no medic nin, but he knew basics, and this wasn't a good situation.

"Dawn, you know me. I would never hurt you. I've lived my life to protect you, and I will do so until my last breath. I spent all this time searching for traces of you, and now i've found you. I'm not letting you get hurt again." Altar said, assesing the wounds again. She had been walking earlier, so she had been straining them. That had only made them worse. In the condition she was in, he didn't think she'd be able to walk for a long while. Noting that, he heard voices in the distance. They were headed this way.

"Dawn, I need to move you. You can't walk right now, you'd only make your injuries worse. I'm going to carry you back home, were we can talk and catch up and you'll be safe, but we need to move, now. So, i'm going to pick you up." Altar said, making sure to leave no room for argument. His sister at least seemed to see the sense in that, as she agreed, and let him pick her up. After he did, it was a long walk back.

Once home, Altar laid Dawn on his bed, assuring that he'd be fine sleeping out on the couch, or in the chair. As he was about to leave the room, he noticed something small walking out of the adjoining bathroom. He thought it was nothing, so he turned off the lights and said his goodnight to his sister. However, as he was about to walk out of the room, he heard his sister shriek. He darted back into the room, turning the light back on and preparing himself to fight. However, he relaxed when he heard laughing, and saw a small drake atop his sister, licking at her face. He let out a chuckle, then moved to scrape up the dragon.

"Dawn, this is my pet dragon, Tenebris. He lives here with me, but don't worry. It seems he already likes you." Altar would say, taking the dragon out into the living room with him, after saying a second goodnight to his sister. After setting the dragon on the chair, softly apologizing to him that he wouldn't be able to sleep on the bed tonight, he walked to the second bathroom, flicking on the light and shutting the door quietly behind him. What a day this had been. He had found his sister, but had seen no sign of his parents. He presumed they were dead, however. In the morning, he'd get details from Dawn about what she had seen of them. Looking in the mirror, Altar noticed something strange about himself. The crimson eye he had adored was growing dimmer somehow. After a few seconds, a burning pain erupted from his eye. He clutched at it, clenching his teeth against the agony. It felt like his head was going to explode. However, the pain died out almost as swiftly as it had begun, and he looked back to the mirror to see the eye the same as when it had started. However, when he activated it, he noticed the color change from the normal blood red, to a now jade green. Deactivating it, he noticed that it changed back. Well, that was...odd. Still...perhaps it meant something. He'd find out soon enough. Leaving the bathroom, he turned out the light in the living room, stumbled his way to the couch, and laid down, well prepared for a well deserved night's sleep.

~TWC - 3258~
~Meigan 2nd Stage - Naien/Inner Flame Unlocked~
~16 Stat Points~

Approved