Naruto Shippuden: girl from whirlpools

Awakening

Chapter Twenty-Six: Awakening

"Minato-kun, I have to say this is an improvement. A vast improvement indeed."

Orochimaru chuckled to himself as he waved long, white fingers before Minato's face to test his reaction – and gained none. For all appearances, the young jonin had frozen in place, unaware of Orochimaru and the room around him, as if time had stopped. The man he had been attempting to release was still barely conscious, though he shakily reached out with his freed arm to grope at Minato's unflinching one. "Help... me..."

A wide leer of amusement split Orochimaru's face as he peered down at his pathetic prisoner. "What are you asking him for? He can no more help you now than any one of these useless corpses," he said, spreading his arms wide to present the various bodies suspended against the walls. "But matters are now drawing to a close and I believe I have reached the limits of my research here. I will have to move, and you... you have served your purpose."

Blood spurted outwards in one swift downward stroke; the Suna nin gasped in a mixture of relief and suffering and rolled his head. Though his eyes never closed, the moment life fled them was unmistakable, like watching lights being extinguished in darkness... something Minato had grown used to seeing, but never quite like this. The blood spatter dripped down his face – he could feel its warmth and thickness but he couldn't wipe it away. He couldn't react.

His body was paralysed, severed from his control as brutally as the limbs had been severed from these cadavers. A claustrophobic feeling set in. He was trapped inside his own body, nothing but a pair of eyes helpless to watch Orochimaru sedately wiping his kunai clean on his sleeve.

Sliding his weapon back out of sight in his belt, Orochimaru gracefully tucked a sheet of inky black hair behind an ear. Never once did his smile slip throughout the brutal execution. "Now where were we? Oh, that's right. Since you're here... perhaps you can assist me? Follow me, Minato-kun."

Like hell, thought Minato. But his body was already moving, pushing away from the table in a faintly lumbering fashion, and following Orochimaru's form through to another room. With the sannin's back turned, now would be a prime time to strike and kill – no one who saw this lair would blame him. Minato tried with all his might to draw his hand up, to reach for one of his weapons... but all he detected was a faint tremor in his fingers before his will subsided.

"Don't resist, Minato-kun," Orochimaru said softly without turning to him. Minato wouldn't put it past him to literally have eyes on the back of his head. "I control your very blood from your arteries to your capillaries... if you resist too strongly, you will snap your own blood vessels or tear your heart to pieces. Please be mindful."

What had this bastard done?

There was a furnace in the room he was brought to; it burned steadily in the corner, filling the air with a hot, acrid smell. Though Minato couldn't wilfully direct his gaze toward it, out of the corner of his eye he saw more buckets of limbs and lumpy body-bags too small to be adults.

Was this what happened the rest of the children?

"Sit." Orochimaru pointed at a solitary chair against the wall. Minato sat, inwardly raging at the unquestioning obedience he'd been forced into.

"You'll have noticed this is no ordinary paralysis," the sannin said, removing a scroll from his vest. "Believe me, I think this is some of my finest work, Minato-kun. I've had a lot of time to prepare this."

He unravelling the scroll with almost loving care, and turned it for Minato to see. A jutsu, clearly, and it almost looked like a summoning contract... except it was entirely written in blood.