EDIT as of 11/18/2013: Minor beta-ing done!
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
Dark Abyss
Prologue
It was dark. Everything was dark.
Rukia could barely focus as the darkness threatened to overwhelm her senses. The humongous brick walls seemed to engulf her in a pit of shadows as they hovered menacingly above her head.
But then she carried on undeterred, determined even.
She didn't know what overcame her—did not know why her brain had commanded her to come here, did not know why her feet had suddenly brought her to this ever-mysterious part of the palace.
The basement.
Bracing forward, she continued on her track, mindless of where this unexpected trip was taking her. She knew for a fact she was trudging on dangerous grounds, but the risks—the jeopardy of it all—had her body and limbs moving as if on a trance.
There were many a nights when she had woken up drenched in sweat, her dreams centered wholly on the ominous landscape of the long winding staircase leading to the basement. It was so vivid, so stunning she'd have not enough strength to push the images away.
She was so curious, so excited to see what lies beyond it. And so it had escalated to the point where she'd always dream of it every night like a broken tape record.
Rukia blinked, abruptly perceiving that she had now crossed the entirety of the stairs, and was now facing an arch leading to an even darker space. She sighed in relief, the nervousness she had felt before now dispersing into thin air. Finally, she was close.
As if the thought had struck her, her hand immediately felt for the matchbox inside the purse of her yukata. She didn't want to attract any attention so she had come to the basement without even lighting a lamp. Now that the chance of getting caught was slim, her hands fumbled for the matchstick as she scraped the end of it against the rough side of the tiny box.
The diminutive light momentarily hindered her blind. She squinted her eyes to adjust and focused again on the situation beforehand. She spotted a torch hanging on one side of the wall and lightened it up without a second thought.
She gasped, for there, in front of her, was a pathway plagued with all sorts of cobwebs and night crawlers. Her resolve wavered a bit, but she remained absolutely steadfast as her feet started moving forward.
Her violet eyes scrutinized every detail of the mystifying place. She realized that, the longer she walked on the vast expanse of the hallway, the more it stretched into endless miles. The place became surprisingly narrower the deeper she explored. Her eyes then, only guided by the fire, finally caught sight of the countless skeletons littering the sides like useless pieces of metals.
Some were reaching their arms out, like begging for help and salvation. She fought the urge to vomit as she continued to walk, wisps of an eerie feeling coating her skin making her quiver like a leaf under the roof of the storm. She wondered how long these skeletons had been here and how long they had been waiting for mercy. The sight was so nerve-wracking but she couldn't stop, she just couldn't. Even if she wanted to, her feet wouldn't budge.
And at last, for what felt like an eternity, the hallway approached into a halt. At the end was a big wooden door made of antique mahogany. Rukia had an inkling that she'd need a key to unlock it, but she reached out still and touched the surface of the lock. Imagine her surprise when, in slow motion, the heavy metal clicked itself unlock and the low rumbling sound of the door as it screeched open pierced her eardrums.
In the middle stood in all its wicked glory, a tall casket in the color of oak brown. It looked old—too old—for Rukia's taste, but the quiet beckoning of the hapless wood beast had her nimble feet moving even before she could comprehend what was happening.
Like puppet on strings, her unoccupied hand brushed away the thick strands of ropes keeping the tomb secured in place. She quietly unchained them from their knots and pulled each apart. The rectangular piece of paper—with a weird calligraphy written on it—attached to the middle of the ropes fell onto the ground with a small flop.
… The inevitable event of his awakening has finally come to life.
