Anime one-shots/ requests/ drabbles (Requests are closed.)

Naruto (No romance)- Never.

Ok, I honestly have no idea as to what the hell this is supposed to be.

WARNING: I think it is kind of horror? Probably? I don't know.....

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There once was a child. A child who, despite the hopes of everyone, was ordinary. Painfully so. They had no parents- both died due to a truly tragic mission gone wrong that everyone was devestated about, leaving the child as an orphan. And the poor, unfortunate child was under the utmost protection and care of the orphanage who were delighted and undoubtedly responsible for the child.

At least, that is what is on their file. Reality, of course, is so very different from the revoltingly honeyed lies transcribed on the small bunch of dusty paper that have not seen the light of day in a long time. A quiet child by necessity, they were overlooked and never noticed unless it was to reprimand or scoff at for being a failure. They didn't speak, didn't try to stand out, didn't laugh, smile or cry- they remained unasssuming and unnoticed.

For it was easier. And yet they hated it.

They were weak. Their parents were both strong jounin and ANBU respectively, with impressive latent chakra reserves and control. Competent taijutsu users and able at genjutsu, it was highly hoped for that any offspring of theirs would be similarly powerful. Hopeful they would have another able weapon to use. It was all they thought of about the child.

So, when it was revealed that the child was painfully normal, they lost interest.  The only thought that remained to the child was-

"What a dissapointment."

And the child despised it. They struggled and struggled, worked and worked every day, hour after hour in hopes of growing stronger- strong enough to show them all. They tried oh-so hard, training and practicing and trying again and again, over and over until they could barely move from exhaustion.  but nothing could help them. It didn't matter how long they trained, how hard they worked, how desperate they were. It did nothing. They couldn't grow stronger, for they were stuck at a level that they could not break free from due to the constraints and limits they could not shatter. They couldn't expand their chakra.

They couldn't fight.

They couldn't win.

They couldn't kill.

They were weak. Oh-so weak.

And the lack of notice continued. They were ignored and hated, a mere speck of dirt on everyones shoes, not worth a glance. A bad smell that refused to dissapear. They grew bitter, angry and resentful, disgusted by the isolation and alienation that was view as normal and no-one saw a problem with it.

Because no-one cared. They didn't care about a single orphan who held no power and could be of no use to them. So they ignored them.

Like the rest of the village.

Like the rest of the whole godforsaken world.

But the resentment went unnoticed. It was overlooked as the child rotted and decayed into pure raw hatred that swelled and burned unremmitingly.

Never endingly.

Even in death, the hatred still burns.

And hatred is a powerful thing.

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In the orphanage, children play and laugh, running around in joy as the carers watch over them, eyes calculating as they size up the potential they hold. All is peaceful, but in a certain corner is disturbed. Seemingly barren, yet perhaps not.

For it is only visible to the children. A deathly pale figure sits in the corner quietly, seemingly observing the area around. Unkempt dark hair covers their eyes from view as they hold their head slightly down, obscuring their face from sight. Shadows seem to gather, surrounding them in darkness and gloom. A single ball went astray, rolling upto the figure and landing in their hands as they remained still. The children exchanged a glance and ran up to them, smiles on their faces as they asked:

"Can we have our ball, please?"

The air grew heavy, a sudden,bitter chilll filling the air as a sudden fear began to submerge them slowly as the area became silent and evey grew still. It was as though the world had been frozen, coming to a stand still as they tried not to tremble, anxiously waiting for the reply. Slowly, very slowly and fluidly, the childs head raised so it was staring at them, a nerve wracking focus to it as they began to fidget. A seeming eternity passed as the figure stared at them through the mass of dark threads that was their hair, when it happened.

The wind blew, a sudden eerie howl that tore through the area and attacked them, ripping the curtain of hair into the air and away from their face, revealing them to the group. Palid skin gleamed out at them, a smile spread across their face as they stared out at the children in front of them. Blood stained the skin, leaking down their face in a trail that if you followed led up, up, up to the gaping holes in their face where their eyes should be. And that gaping void in their face revealed the truth to them as they began to hyperventilate in the face of the smiling child.

Their eyes had been torn out.

They were dead.

DEAD.

Laughter, a piercing, mocking laughter that was so very unnerving, so very daunting rang through the air, surrounding them as, all of a sudden, the child was closer. The smile grew wider, mocking as they spoke, voice an echoing everywhere and anywhere:

"Am I still a dissapointment?"

Silence followed as the child continued:

"Will you join me?"

The children began to scream, terror filling the air as they tried to run, desperatley clawing for escape as the child began to laugh louder and louder, mania filling the sound. They cried and screamed and yelled and begged for help, but it was pointless. They were obscured from the rest- trapped there.

They would be like the child. They wouldn't be alone anymore.

"Why are you trying to leave me?"

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There once was a child, ignored, hated and alone. They grew to hate and curse, that hatred binding them for eternity. They sat in the corner, laughing as the children ran screaming, blood streaming form their now empty eye sockets whilst they simply smiled, content as they glanced down at the new additions to their collection laying strewn across the floor. They remained unseen by the rest, hidden amongst the shadows. They were still unseen, unnoticed, a dissapointment.

But they didn't care anymore.

For they were no longer alone.

They would never be alone again.

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So, yeah... Please don't ask, I have no idea how this came to existence. No clue. Dedicated to animelover491 because her horror oneshot thingy inspired the horror fan in me.

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