Board Thread:Hidden Leaf Village/@comment-44317852-20191211175508/@comment-24937485-20191212224342

A foul and ghastly scent reached Akihiro’s nostrils. The scent one would usually find in a graveyard, a scent more rotten than the teeth from the vision, all produced by nothing other than the reeking breath of Uziku.

“Look at that. A proud Uchiha. Trapped like the filth you are. You think you are special? You think your eyes make you special, swine? You are no more than Uziku’s toy. And Uziku is in the mood to play.”

Uziku had now fully stepped in front of the metal bars which held Akihiro imprisoned, bars which extended from the ground to the roof save for a simple door built within its construction, closed by a thick lock most likely to be opened with the bundle of keys strapped to Uziku’s belt.

“Uziku was always looked down upon. Not part of a filthy noble clan. Maybe I should take your eyes. That will be a fun game. Huu huu hu.”

His gluttonous belly shook from the visceral attitude with which he spoke. Spittle being slung from his syllables as he brought the torch closer to the bars so that he could better see Akihiro. He was looking for a reaction. Dumb as this 8th piece of meat and muscle was, he had an eye for faces and expressions. He was looking for the fear he had gotten used to, fear that he fed on, fear that sustained his miserable life. But would he find it in Akihiro?