The Wish of a Wandering Soul

The First Hunt

"talking"
thinking
Kurama talking in the mind
'Kurama thinking'
---------:Dreams and Flashbacks
'Memory quotes'
=====:Scene Change

3rd POV

     It was around midnight on October 10, 5 years after the Kyuubi's defeat, the Yondaime's death, and the destruction of Konoha. The Kyuubi's Defeat Festival was just about over and the villagers of Konoha were retiring for the night. However, not all of them believed that the celebrations were over. The remaining villagers unanimously decided that it was time that the demon scum got what he—no—it deserved.

     A few days prior, the "demon scum," as they would call it, was kicked out of the only home he had ever known, the village orphanage. Well, it wasn't much of a home actually, more like a prison. The boy was severely mistreated during his stay in the orphanage, constantly being picked on for his unusual three whisker marks on each cheek, barely given any food, forced to clean up after everyone else, and occasionally, being disciplined for doing nothing wrong. Disciplined, meaning being brutally beaten half to death. Yeah disciplined. Oh and don't forget he hadn't reached five years old yet.Not until this day.

The moon's brilliant glow lit up the night of October 10. The now five year old, homeless, young boy was running through the village of Konoha as fast as his bony little legs could take him, fearing for his life. Behind him was a mob of screaming villagers shouting profanities at him. Saying he was scared would be a very big understatement. He was terrified. The boy took a turn in an alley way only to meet a dead end. Oh no!! He turned around only to meet the angry villagers blocking his only way out. Fearfully, the boy backed into the alley until he met the wall.  He held his skinny arms over his face, tears streaming down his whisker marked cheeks. He trembled violently under the shadows of the bloodthirsty villagers

"P-p-please, p-please l-let me g-go," he begged as he felt the heat of the villagers' torches coming closer. One of the lead villagers only scoffed and gave a massive blow to the boys stomach. The boy yelped in pain and fell to the ground, clutching his stomach. "THAT'S WHAT YOU GET YOU MONSTER!! WHAT HAPPENED WHEN YOU DIDN'T LET MY WIFE GO!?!?!?!" the man shouted and everyone else rallied in agreement. The mob joined in the beating of the poor child. He curled his body into a ball in a vain attempt to shield himself from the lethal blows, kicks, burns, stabs, and hateful words.

DEMON!!!

MONSTER!!

DIE!!

MURDERER!!

YOU KILLED MY WIFE!!

MY CHILDREN!!

KILLER!!

DIE!!

DIE!!!

DIE!!!!

    After about an hour or so, the mob died out and went to go to their homes, retiring for the night. They left the boy battered, broken, and laying at death's door. His blonde hair no longer noticeable and replaced with a crimson red, and muddied color. The boy, still conscious after the ordeal, continued to softly cry and sob into the harsh, cold, night, feeling ever so alone.

Why do they hate me?

Why do they hurt me?

Why do they call me a demon?

A monster?

What did I do?

Please someone tell me..

I want to fix it..

Please don't hurt me anymore..

Please...

     On that day, the villagers of Konoha had founded a new festival game to play every year on the Anniversary of the Kyuubi's Defeat, the Fox Hunt, a game that Naruto Uzumaki..has never won.