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Dread of Iron Hills

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Doylo Bushida:
One of my fan naruto inspired stories :P sorry for bad english, i did my best :) and i dont know how many time i will post other chapters. if you will like a lot i try to find much time for working on it ;)

PROLOGUE   

       „Jaikebo...“
      „It´s time...“
      „Jaikebo...“
       Ominous whisper was crawling through the room like a monstrous snake. A young ninja could not even take a breath in from the fear. His room was being filled by an unknown power, he could feel it all around himself. The muscles surrounding his eyes were already stinging from the sheer force of having his eyelids shut tight.
        „It´s time, Jaikebo,“ sounded the first of the voices, high pitched and desperate, the voice of a broken widow with a knife stabbed in her heart.
   „There is no way out,“ said the another voice, demonic, deep, as if followed by the ice-cold death.
   His body was trembling with terror. Abominable murmur sounded as if from the most sinister parts of the other world. He felt as if the room was being filled with the dank smell of the deceasing bodies. The eeriest thing was the fact that that was not a dream. He could sense every perception, every little noise. He could smell his own acidic sweat soaking his pyjamas and the sheets, it seemed that every drop of sweat is a little piece of a decaying body. Fierce bite to his lip jerked him out of the claws of an invisible fear, but the taste of the blood trickling down from the wound was causing him nausea.
   Why was he even scared? He knew, after all, that the time was nearing, that they would have come for him, that he was the chosen one. The chosen one to would have died by the merciless death.
   „Open your eyes, Jaikebo...“
   „We don´t want to harm you…”
   „We don´t?...”
   „We´ll see about that…”
   Excruciating voices were slipping into every part of his body, the indescribable sense of approaching death clenched his heart, and when the black-and-white mist in the middle of the room began to form into the shape of something alive, he jumped up. The fear took hold of his body again, he was unable to control his own chakra. But from the remaining strength he grabbed the ornamental iron stick, his only weapon, and focused all of his last chakra into it. The stick pulsed with golden electric current, spattering out every now and then. The live mist feignedly stopped and stiffened. Not for long, though. Before anyone could ever react, the demonic creature consumed him fully. Alarmingly, he found out that not a single sound was coming out of his mouth. He did not have a single chance to call out the other members of his clan for help.
   „We are being patient, Jaikebo...“
   „But not for long!...“
   He felt an enormous pain in his shoulders and sensed that something is coming out of them.
    „To cause hurt?...“ sounded from the right.
   „Definitely!...“answer from the left.
   „Good...“
   Entity with Jaikebo in its body ascended to the air and as fast as possible, without any rattle, flew out of the open window, snatching off the bamboo bars holding the curtains. Till he lost his consciousness he got a glance of his clan´s sign on a massive sapphire pole in the middle of their territory, disappearing in the growing darkness of the night.

ORANGE: female demon voice
PURPLE: male demon voice

mamita:
Huh. Seems like a good beginning.
I hope this story gets continued eventually.

Toratsume Nyshn:
Yep... story has a potential... but tbh.. the words lack power. Although it's far better than just any beginner or an average storyteller/writer.... I suggest you keep practicing and improve on your writing style.
And a future advice.. don't go overboard and overdo it the next time... Some writers implement complex words and phrases in their stories but still fail to entertain its readers... and then there are those who use the simplest of words in such a way... that it would definitely leave a lasting impression.
Good luck with your future endeavors!
:)

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