Other world chimera [Naruto fanfic]

117. What she hates most



117. What she hates most

The name had been called, the gates opened and the chains undone. In the darkest depths something woke up. It's called to bring all its wrath upon the world. It had been content to lay and rest, never to be awoken again. However, the world wouldn’t let it. Hate, it hates, that is all it does, that is all it can do, and that is all it can ever do, hate. 

Kurama witnessed as the world died around him. The clear water of the lake turned once more into a pitch black pit of bubbling hate. The lush green grass turned into cinders and ash as the ground blackened and died. Black clouds screamed their wrath in the form of ear splitting thunder. While the trees become petrified losing their leaves. 

Ash fell like gray snow all around. While the roaring screams of an endless fire tried to burn down the dead forest. It looked like hell and hell needed its residents. Kurama had lived with Tomoka for twelve years now, yet seeing this now he felt like he never truly knew her. 

All around he saw corpses. Corpses of the same woman killed in every possible way imaginable and then some more. Some hung by their necks swinging softly to a nonexistent wind. Others were impaled in through their bottoms. Some more had been tied to the trees, sharp wires cutting into their flesh as the bled rivers of dark blood. There were others floating gently within bubbles of murky water, their bodies bloated as if they had been there for far too long. 

Corpses of the same woman lay mutilated, some skinned, others headless. Piles and piles of corpses. Made hills and mountains of rotten flesh. All of them looked the same, a woman in her late thirties, tall with brown hair. A pair of round glasses adorned her freckled face making her brown eyes look slightly bigger than they really are. A white lab coat with a simple blue shirt and black pants was all she wore. 

Kurama wanted to close his eyes, He wanted to unsee the horror before him. He had killed many humans before, but this was far beyond that. Every single corpsed looked like a display made by a madman who hated the woman to no end. Who could do something as horrible as this? That is when Kurama’s thoughts diverged to someone that could. 

He remembered when he had asked Tomoka about her past life. He remembered how she talked about her previous self as if that had been someone else. He remembered the apathy she showed but above all, the barely contained hate. Back then he thought that she had been reminded of someone she had hated. He was both horribly wrong and right. 

“She hates herself” Kurama couldn’t help but mutter in disbelief. As he did every single corpse moved in unison to stare at him. Thousands or even millions of pairs of dead eyes turned towards him. They were expressionless, emotionless and yet he could feel as if his very soul was being judged. It felt as if he had learned of a forbidden secret, one not even the girl it belongs to should know.             

ROOOOAAAAAAAR!” The world shook and it broke. The ground became riddled with cracks from which boiling red rivers of blood flowed. A call a curse the beginning of what should not be. Every single corpse heard it and they would oblige. They moved their dead eyes to the lake with perfect synchronization. 

An army, a flood of the dead moved towards the lake, each corpse feeding it with their rotten flesh. The black waters grew and overflowed, taking even more corpses with it. Once a flood of corpses, it became a flood of pitch black rot. It grew and moved as if alive, it moved with purpose. 

Kurama could only watch horrified as the flood swallowed the library, then the tower in which that weird portal rested. Then he saw it move towards him. He was big, there is no doubt about it, Kurama is at the very least a hundred meters from head to tails. However, this flood made him seem tiny in comparison. He could do nothing but gaze into it as it became bigger and bigger while approaching him.

At some point all Kurama could see in front of him was the pitch black of the flood and as he did a thought invaded his head. Like an insidious parasite it settled there, refusing to leave. With each agonizing moment it grew in strength until his body acted before he could even comprehend what he was doing, or rather saying. 

“The abyss,” And with yellow reptilian eyes, it gazed back at him.         


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