She stalked her victim quietly and thoroughly, following a circuitous route and doubling back to make sure she was not followed.

Her descent into madness had its origin in watching her God reject her and turn his attention, and affection, to the woman she was now hunting. She had been one of God's first followers, hanging onto his every word and interpreting his every action as his Divine Will that she personally felt she must fulfill. As a result she had climbed into Pein's Circles of Hell expecting to find enlightenment and peace upon every rung of delusion only to be met with crushing disappointment and uncertainty.

Following the soft imprints of feet to a clearing, her ears caught an enchanting melody. She ducked behind a tree and watched. There she was... alone and vulnerable.

Her adversary was bathing in a clear pool in the woods known to be frequented by the group's resident shark. She supposed that's how she found out about it, this slice of tranquility in a war torn land. Reaching around the tree she dug her nails into the bark and pulled. Her fingernails broke into jagged tips and the bark became damp with the blood from her abused fingers. Anger clouded her vision and her mind went to a dark place. A familiar places, yes, but a dark and twisted place nonetheless.

She stripped off her clothing and shoes, intending to make herself more silent and harder to fight. When her rival's back was turned, she crept out from behind the tree and stealthily and swiftly reached the edge of the pool and then slipped into the still blue waters.

Her eyes were fixed on the glistening water drops that flowed down her soon-to-be sparring partner's back and curves. She watched as they flowed down her back, temporarily pooling into the dimples on her lower back, before cascading down her curvy buttocks and back into the pool.

Reaching out her hand, with its jagged nails, grabbed a fistful of shoulder length purple blue hair and yanked back hard. She heard the woman gasp in shock and then hiss in pain before she pulled her close. She pressed her breasts into her rival's back and slashed at the woman's neck with her nails.

The pale skin soon reddened before it split open into deep cuts. The warm blood smeared onto her fingers she tried to stem the bleeding and counter the hand that was snaking around to grab her trachea and trying to crush it between it's fingers.

With eyes widened by shock, she knew she needed to flee. She was naked and had (foolishly) come to bathe here with just a thin silk robe, not thinking to pack her weapons or ask for a guard. She mentally cursed her inability to use her signature jutsu thanks to the chakra paralysis brought about by a difficult fight against a Hyuga a few days before.

God had been so angry that his Angel had been hurt that he personally hunted down, found, and murdered the man. He had then bathed his Angel in water that he himself had cleansed and then rubbed holy oil onto her skin.

"You have been restored," he murmured against her neck while leaning forward to cup her breasts in his hands. "Until Sasori and Orochimaru return from Konoha with how to undo this Hyuga curse, you are to stay at my side or one of the Akatsuki member's side at all times. Only in this way we can protect you."

She should have listened, she realized a little too late. And she should have obeyed, not snuck out. She was clearly at a disadvantage.

Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the hand searching for her trachea. One hand held the wrist firmly while her other hand came up, looking like she was going to give her attacker a high five, and lined its palm against her fingertips. She could feel the sharp nails scraping the skin of her palm. Before her attacker could react, she had slammed her hand forward, forcing the other woman's fingers to crack and then pop out of the joints of her hand and lay flat against the top of the hand. It looked unusual, to say the least.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the almost inhuman howl that came from behind her. The hand tore itself from her grip. A closed fist hit the back of her head instead.

Holding her left hand to provide some support to the dislocated fingers which were swaying easily with movement, she howled in pain and anger. Then, using the anger to fuel her rage, she formed a fist with her uninjured hand and threw it into her victim's skull with all her strength.

She stepped back and watched the other woman fall to her knees in the waist deep section of the pool. One hand was supporting her body and balance while the other hand reached behind her head to feel for any damage. Her mind was dazed and she felt confused.

Breathing heavily, she walked up behind her again. Such a feeble woman. Her weakness is proof that she is not worthy of God's attention and certainly not his affection! What if this weakness had been allowed to breed?! To infect the Faithful? Her God would not be the leader of a weak army!

With a savage kick to the back, between the shoulder blades, she watched as the harlot fall forward into the water. Before she could get up and free herself, the other woman's foot was on the back of her neck and pressing her face into the pool's sandy bottom.

Calmly standing on the woman's neck as she thrashed around in the water, she hissed each time nails tried to dig into her foot or ankle in a desperate bid for freedom.

"Just hurry up and die," she said scornfully. As of to emphasize her disgust, she spat into the water next to the woman's submerged head.

Eventually the thrashing stopped. She felt two quick spasms in the woman's neck and the woman stilled. Without wasting time, she reached down and grabbed the body under the armpits and dragged it to shore.

After dragging the body onto dry land she sprinted back over to the tree that she had initially watched from. She grabbed a small pouch that she had secreted in her piled clothes. Grabbing it, she turned and ran back to the body, kneeling by its side when she reached it. All of this was time sensitive and she was sure she would have a high success rate when she had the freshest body possible.

She dropped the pouch onto the ground and upended it. A senbon that had been flattened by hammering, another piece of a senbon with a hole drilled into one end, and two small jars fell out.

Grabbing the crude scalpel and placing her right hand on the deceased's face, she gently stretched the skin and began cutting. She cuts were precise and smooth, her hands having the confidence her diseased brain gave her. She finished the cutting needed on the face and turned back to the items she had brought with her.

Taking one of the small jars, she spread cream on her skin and moved to the rest of the dead woman's body. Her broken hand was hindering her efforts but she worked as quickly as she could.

With forethought, she quickly and efficiently mutilated the body, taking extra care to disfigure the woman's genitalia and cut out her reproductive system intact, as well as her vagina, and arranged it on top of the woman's stomach.

Having done that she slid out one more item from her pouch. She remove it from the pouch with care since she didn't want to accidentally drop it and have it shatter. Inspecting it, she was delighted to see that it was intact.

Looking into the mirror, she picked up her scalpel and placed it gently on her skin. Once she as sure of her margins, and using her damaged hand to steady the gently stretched skin, she pressed the blade into her skin and began to cut. Thanks to the cream she applied earlier she didn't feel any pain.

When the cutting was done, she began to use fine, quick strokes to separate the offending visage from her. She grabbed it and tossed it aside. She wouldn't need it anymore. Walking back over to the body, she grabbed the mask she wanted from where it had lain on its former home.

Grabbing the simple sewing needle and threading it, she lined up the edges of the mask as best she could with the edges of her cuts, as well as lay the face onto her bone structure.

The sun was beginning to set by the time she was done with her sutures. She examined her new face in the mirror once again and smiled. The lips didn't move but she wasn't too bothered by that. The bells were ringing. God was calling his followers home.

She stood and began walking back toward his Holy Land. She felt wonderful. She felt confident. She finally felt that she was beautiful enough to capture her God's Love and live in Eternal Glory with Pein.

Pein had loved that bitch's face so he is going to witness a miracle with her face and my devotion!

A sinister smile tried to form on the mask's lips. Soon she would have all she wanted and deserved. And if she didn't get what she wanted? Then she would see if her God can die.