Naruto: Call of Cthulhu

Orochimaru fled across the plains, the alarms of Konoha fading into the distance behind him.

A smile spread across his face as he whispered, "Until next time, Konoha." The wind swept his words away.

He had outsmarted the village, disappearing before they even knew what was happening. Now, they had no chance of catching him.

As a bonus, he'd even managed to snatch a souvenir - the genin from the hospital, whose mind had been shattered by the statue's power.

Ah, the statue.

The statue. He patted the scroll at his hip, feeling a thrill of excitement.

Inside, he had his greatest prize: the stolen statue. It held the key to unlocking the secrets he'd glimpsed in the Necronomicon.

With it, he could unravel the mysteries of the statue's powers, which could reshape flesh and control the mind.

If he could master that power, the possibilities would be endless.

And if the visions granted by the statue were more than just wild fantasies, if its power was real... then the ancient beings of myth had to be real too.

Cthulhu. Yog-Sothoth. The hidden secrets of the universe, the very fabric of creation itself - finally within his reach.

He shivered, despite the warmth of the night. The mere thought sent a jolt of excitement through his veins.

He just had to keep moving, no matter where it led.

----------

The dense forest closed in around him, blocking out the moonlight. Orochimaru moved forward, his pale form gliding through the shadows like a ghost.

Suddenly, he stopped, his golden eyes narrowing. "I know you're there," he called out. "I can hear you breathing."

The forest was silent, except for the sound of his own breathing. It was as if the trees themselves were watching him.

He chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. With no sign of pursuit from the village, he could indulge in a little game.

His eyes scanned the surrounding trees. His sharp ears had pinpointed the intruders - two of them, judging by their breathing patterns.

One was trying too hard to be silent, their racing heart giving them away. The other breathed too loudly, a clumsy attempt at stealth.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Orochimaru sang, his voice mocking and playful. "Don't be shy. I promise I won't bite... yet."

He slid silently to the first tree and peeked around. Nothing. A cold smile crept onto his lips as his tongue darted out, tasting the air.

He flashed to the second tree, moving faster than the eye could follow. Still nothing.

Only one tree remained. He readied himself to pounce-

-just as a small metal object came flying out from behind the trunk. Reflexes screaming, he leapt back as the thing clattered to the ground at his feet.

He stared down at it warily - a dark metal box, smoke beginning to seep from its seams. Then, with an ominous hiss, the box cracked open.

Smoke poured out, thick and dark. Orochimaru felt his blood turn to ice. A massive spider, its bulbous body pulsing with unnatural life, emerged from the box.

Eight hellish eyes blazed with alien intelligence, fixed on him. And Eight spindly legs flexed, clawed tips glinting, as the monstrous creature pulled itself from its metal cocoon.

"Multiple Striking Shadow Snakes!" Orochimaru's instincts took over, and he lashed out at the monstrous spider before him.

Dozens of serpents erupted from his sleeves, fangs bared and hissing as they struck at the creature.

But they passed right through it, as if the spider was made of nothing more than smoke and shadow.

His eyes widened in shock and disbelief, mixed with the cold realization of his mistake. The snakes, still moving forward, tangled themselves in the spider's legs.

And then, impossibly fast, those legs solidified into jointed, chitinous things. Their razor-sharp edges sliced through scale and sinew like a hot knife through silk.

Orochimaru had only a heartbeat to register the pain, before the spider's forelegs seized his own and whipped him around, flinging him like a rag doll into the trunk of a tree.

The impact knocked the breath out of him, stars exploding across his vision.

He slumped to the ground, tasting copper on his tongue, feeling the warm trickle of blood down his chin.

Orochimaru, the greatest genius of his generation, was stunned. A spider, smoky and solid at the same time, had bested him.

It was impossible, defying all logic and the laws of nature and chakra.

Yet, it was happening.

Memories flashed through his mind. He recalled the Iburi clan that could transform their bodies into smoke.

Their technique had seemed perfect, until he discovered their weakness: wind. A simple gust could scatter their smoky forms, erasing them from existence.

If this spider shared that vulnerability...

His hands moved swiftly.

"Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!" he shouted, unleashing a powerful gale that whipped through the trees and slammed into the spider.

He was sure it would be enough.

But the spider didn't flinch. The wind howled around it, through it, and it kept coming, relentless as the tide.

Orochimaru's mind raced, desperate for a solution. Maybe fire could consume the creature if wind couldn't disperse it.

His hands moved swiftly again, the seals coming fast and furious. "Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu!"

A torrent of fire burst from his lips, a blazing inferno that engulfed the spider, setting the air ablaze.

For a moment, Orochimaru dared to hope. But then, through the flames and swirling smoke, the spider emerged. Unscathed. Unhindered.

And furious.

It lunged at him, a blur of shadow and heat, its jaws wide open.

He dodged aside, feeling the venomous sting on his cheek and the rake of a claw across his back.

He rolled to his feet, his heart racing. This was no ordinary creature, no simple trick of smoke and chakra.

This was something ancient and unknowable.

The spider reared up, its eyes blazing with malevolent fury.

As its shadow fell over him, blocking out the moon and stars, Orochimaru knew he was going to die.

And for the first time in his life, he was afraid.

But even as fear threatened to consume him, a spark of defiance ignited in his chest.

No. He wouldn't go down like this. Not cowering in the dirt, defeated by some monstrous creature.

He was Orochimaru of the Sannin, the White Snake.

He hadn't come this far, sacrificed so much, to fall now. Not when the secrets of the universe were finally within his grasp.

With a snarl of rage, he charged forward, his hands forming the signs of a familiar jutsu.

The spider lunged, its jaws open wide, venom dripping from its fangs. Its forelegs twitched, razor-sharp claws flexing.

It struck, a final, fatal blow... and Orochimaru's body burst into a mass of writhing snakes.

The spider recoiled, hissing in confusion and fury as the serpents scattered in all directions. But before it could recover, the ground beneath it erupted.

Orochimaru emerged from the ground, his mouth stretched wide in a grotesque grin.

And from that gaping maw, the gleaming length of the Kusanagi sword extended, driven by the coiled strength of his serpentine body.

The blade pierced the spider's underside, punching through its armor and into the soft flesh beneath.

The creature shrieked, a sound of agony and rage that shook the stones around them.

Orochimaru twisted the sword, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. He reveled in the spider's pain.

With a final, wrenching pull, he tore the Kusanagi free, and a gout of thick, gooey liquid followed.

The spider shuddered, its legs going limp, its eyes fading.

And then, before his eyes, the creature began to dissolve. Its flesh melted away, sloughing off its bones in great, gloopy streams.

Its exoskeleton crumbled, breaking apart into flakes of ash that drifted away on the night breeze.

In moments, there was nothing left of the once-mighty spider except a pile of fine, gray powder.

He stood there, surrounded by the swirling ash, the Kusanagi sliding back into his throat. He had won.

Because he was Orochimaru. And there was no monster, no obstacle, no power in this world or any other that could stand against his will.