Blood Lust

Chapter 48

The darkness that surrounded seemed even more deep and twisted than what you could conjure up in your wildest nightmares. It was a labyrinth that led to your worst fears and frights. Hatred only fueled the intensity of the pitch black room, pulsating like a slow heartbeat. Anyone could feel it if they stepped inside. Slender, gloved fingers tapped on the wooden table impatiently. The leather on the clothes muffled the sound into a quiet tip-tap. The room reeked of blood and decay from the bodies that lay below the table. The once humans were now frozen in a petrified state as their souls leaked out of their bodies. The man who sat at the head of the table used to be proud of a grand feast like this. Normally, the bodies that would lay would be empty shells---clean and quickly disposed. It seemed as though his appetite was gone tonight. Usually every drop of blood would be fed into him, but tonight he wanted the humans to suffer as much as him.

"Can you believe it?" the man spoke, his voice raspy and slow. Blood still trickled off of his pale, scarred lips. "Each and every creation I have made is dead."

He was speaking to the group of ginger-haired creatures. They stood, unmoving and blank. He knew they couldn't respond, but neither could any of his other subordinates now.

"It amazes me how he can weasel his way out of everything," he laughed, amused at his own anguish. "Years and years have gone by and the bastard still continues to live. I was beginning to wonder if he had rotted in that castle before all of this."

He stood up and planted both of his hands firmly on the blood-soaked table. He leaned forward, as if that would make the undead creatures understand him more.

"I have to depend on puppets to do my bidding," he seethed. "Dead, pathetic puppets!"

His voice boomed against the cold, damp stone walls. The creatures didn't react, still standing with their heads low until they were told to move again. It felt like mockery to the man. He needed a reaction. He wanted them to cower down in fear like the others.

"Obito?" a voice called out from behind him. "I'm still here, you know."

Obito swallowed, fighting back the urge to set the whole place into flames.

"What could you possibly do, Zetsu?" he choked out. "Measly humans could kill you if I let you outside."

"I'd offer my life for your goals," Zetsu assured, yet his voice lacked any real confidence.

"Be useful and bring me more dinner," Obito ordered. He stepped away from the table and walked towards a wooden door that led to more darkness. "And clean up the mess. It's putrid."

The room rattled and shook once Obito slammed the door behind him. The fear Zetsu once exuded was no longer present.

"Clean up the mess," he mocked with a poor impression of Obito. A conniving smile curled onto his lips, satisfied with himself.

He drug the bodies into a pile, one by one. The ginger-haired beings still stood around, making his task a little more difficult to dodge around them.

"I feel like I owe you all an apology," he spoke towards them. "Maybe I should have warned you of your fate."

Silence answered him.

"But if you hadn't of graciously given your lives, we wouldn't have made it this far," he continued on.

He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing old blood onto his face. The bodies were already so filthy and covered with flies. Obito always made him do the dirty grunt work. He didn't see any point of throwing him into battle because he lacked any true gifts. In Zetsu's human life, he worked as a servant to a high-ranking noblewoman. In his inhuman life, he continues to work as a servant.

"He believes he is the strongest of all with his newfound abilities," Zetsu chuckled, staring off into the darkness. "He thinks he can change the world into what he wants."

Pulling out one of the chairs, he took a seat. "He has no clue what else is out there," Zetsu affirmed.

Resting was short-lived. A shout from Obito brought Zetsu back to his feet. He didn't fear the man, but he feared his own plan not going through. This was merely an act---playing weak and stupid.

"I am famished!" Obito roared from the hallway.

He was winding down the maze of walls, lurking in the shadows. He wasn't sure where he was headed, but he wanted to stop looking at the soulless creatures. This hideout was unknown to many. Zetsu, the walking dead, and The Wizard only knew of it. Obito knew better than to trust anyone else. He learned the hard way from Madara.

He decided on his bedroom---if one could call it that. It had been stripped away from the typical furnishings, only having an intricate, red coffin surrounded by candles in the middle of it. His mind was spinning with rage and he needed no distractions to tame it. It was easy when Izuna was under his thumb. He crafted his mind into hating Madara just as much as he did. If he had just a little more time, he could have created the ultimate monster to defeat Madara once and for all. Having Madara's lover was just as good. Killing him would have sent Madara into a spiral. He would have been begging to die. But the lovesick vixen managed to ruin those chances, too.

He was running out of options and time.

A coven is intended to be used to keep the figurehead safe. Obito never wanted to get his hands dirty so that's why he created one. He could sit prettily on top while everyone else did the hard, tiresome work. But everyone was dead---at least as far as he knew. It doesn't surprise him to see Madara only a few steps behind him. He was cunning and determined---the main reason Obito had once kept him close.

"I'll have to deal with you myself," he muttered into the dark void of the room. "I'll find you, Madara. I'll rip you into tiny meaningless pieces."

Ending Madara would make everything else fall into place. He was far too morally conscience to be a vampire. Without Madara, he could rule the world and create beings of real power and bloodlust. Humans would no longer be a concern---just cattle. It's the ideal life.

"Someone looks pouty."

Obito's eyes cut across to the door he had just walked through. A familiar figure stood. He could tell from the shape of the shadow that rested against the doorframe.

"How'd you find me?" Obito asked, despite knowing the answer. Kakashi could track just as well as a full-blooded vampire. Maybe even better.

"I could smell your anger from miles away," he chuckled, sauntering further into the room.

"I thought we didn't speak of these matters?" Obito chastised. "You get whiney, Kakashi."

"I can hate what you do," Kakashi shrugged. "But I still find myself in love with you."

"What brings you here?" Obito urged. "Did you only come to tease and gloat that I haven't gotten my way?"

Kakashi hands found themselves wrapped around Obito in a loving embrace. Gentle kisses planted along his scarred jawline before his lips hovered by Obito's ear.

"I know where to find him," Kakashi whispered.

"Who?" Obito grinned.

"Madara Uchiha."