Board Thread:Konoha General RP/@comment-24714922-20170820232812/@comment-24714922-20170821032631

Michirama had never felt a fear like this. The angered figure before him slammed his hand against the shattered wood of the chair's arm, mangling his hand in the process, but to Michirama's shock and surprise. Death made no sign of pain, instead, he got up from his chair and began to walk towards Michirama, his menacing figure amplified by the mutilated hand. Michirama tried his hardest to shy away but no matter what he did he couldn't move due to the iron chains that had materialized around his wrists binding him to the chair.

The words spoken by Death would echo within his mind for the days to come, the loss of sight caused by the warm blood on his face that felt so unbelievably real. And then, like a fresh breath of air, Michirama would sit up in a cold sweat, the first rays of morning breaking through the windows. As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, Michirama knew deep down that everything he had experienced had been much more than a dream and now the idea of sleep scared him more than ever.