RED: Itachi Uchiha

десять - dyes-yat - 10

Danica had only seen one or two moving films in her life. The picture house back home was a good while away from her hometown. She wasn't fond of big cities, everywhere was grey and smelled faintly of smog. The film had been an adaptation of Sleeping Beauty. A Soviet approved version of course. Even despite the lack of colour Danica enjoyed it; the smell of popcorn wafting in from the foyer doors, the subtle sound of people crunching in between mouthfuls.

The images of Itachi's mind were how she imagined films of the future. Every detail that he had committed to memory, down to graining of the tree bark, was there in front of her, so realistic she thought it was real. He had asked before putting his hands on her. Which was a first in itself. Ruslan never asked. Ruslan just took.

The stirring breeze rustled her thoughts. Goosebumps rippled on her skin, slithering down the length of her spine before coiling back up. Beside her, Itachi materialised; his form took the shape of thousands of black feathers, each one carefully outlining his silhouette until he came to be.

"Are you always this dramatic?" Danica cawed, her eyes noting how each feather was an extension of his being. The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. In this form he oozed power. Undiluted and unwavering. A part of her wanted to take a step back, to run far away. The other part of her wanted to take a closer look, to see what truly lurked beneath the feathers and cool exterior.

She had only worn wings a few times in her life. She could never quite get the handle of flying; the maneuvering always threw her off balance and she would wake up just before she hit the ground. How she envied those who could fly, to just up and leave whenever they felt like it. She was tethered. Bound.

"It's this way." Itachi spoke, breaking her train of thought. He watched as she bristled, her shoulders hunching then unwinding, almost as if her body was always in self-defence mode. Ready to spring and recoil at a moment's notice.

Itachi led her through the forest of his reveries, to the clearing where he had first encountered the creature. It was like nothing he had seen before and he had fought many a yōkai in his time. None had ever made his blood run cold and his bones ache. It had been an abomination.

"There," Itachi paused and leant against a nearby tree, his hand subconsciously yearning for the katana at his side. "it came from the village."

Danica immediately stopped breathing. She knew she was in Itachi's memory, but she dared not move. The thing was hideous. Black pits occupied its eye sockets, yet amidst the depths she saw a hunger that would devour worlds at a time if given the chance. And she had seen it done before, a very long time ago.

"Stryzga."

"I beg your pardon?" Itachi raised a single dark brow, his lips puckering at the foreign word. Danica didn't remove her eyes from the creature's form. She undid the top button of her shirt as if the collar was suddenly too tight, a noose tightening around her throat.

"That," Danica's nose wrinkled and her tongue curled against the back of her teeth. "that thing is the epitome of all that is cruel and insidious. Even Death isn't as malicious as that thing." Itachi allowed his eyes to traipse back to the creature, the feeling of its breath on his face all too fresh.

"What is it exactly? A demon?" Itachi asked.

"It was human once." Danica replied. Her words were quiet, almost, woeful he noted. The way she looked at the creature was as if those seafoam eyes of hers could see past the carrion plastered jaws and bone splaying claws. It was as if she was peering into what was left of the creature's wretched soul. "A Stryzga is created when two souls are contained in one body. The dominant soul, usually the corrupt, distorts the host; twisting them until nothing remains but agony and an insatiable hunger."