A/N: I Know I haven't updated my other story yet and I'm very sorry about that, but I was attacked by plot bunnies and had to get it out. Reviews and constructive criticism appreciated.
Warning: Contains rape, foul language, abuse, etc...
I Don't Own Bleach, no matter how much I wish I did.
Ichigo sat silently on the cold stone floor watching uniformed people pass by the window that separated him from the rest of them. He didn't know how long he had been here anymore, but it was slowly driving him further into insanity the longer he was here. Oh, god it felt like forever since he had felt the sun on his skin. Forever since he had been around other people. Forever since he had come to this god awful place. No matter what anyone says about forever, they always forget to tell you one crucial detail. That after awhile forever begins to feel like home sitting all alone inside your head and the longer that your there, the farther away from sanity you drift. As the days blended together Ichigo created someone to help keep the despair at bay. He named him Shiro and like his namesake he was devoid of all color except for his unusual eyes.
The view from the window was soon blocked as curtains outside Ichigo's room were drawn shut, leaving the room dark except for the dull fluorescent light above illuminating the room. The click of the door opening drew Ichigo out of his mindscape. Turning his dull chocolate brown eyes towards the door to see who was coming into the room, Ichigo's eyes opened wide in fear and he cowered away as far into the corner as he could. There standing in front of the now closed door was SÅsuke Aizen. The man still looked the same as the first day he had seen him. Aizen still presented that same front of him being a kind, caring person. In reality Aizen was a heartless man with a god complex. Turning dirt brown eyes in Ichigo's direction, Aizen took in the teen's haggard form huddled in the corner. A well practiced smile rested on his face as he took a seat on the only other piece of furniture in the room.
"How do you feel today, Ichigo?"
That is the question asked every day, the question that resonates throughout the small cell like room.
A harsh, echoing cackle resounds in Ichigo's head. "Now isn't that the question."
Stifling his reply to Shiro's sarcastic remark Ichigo murmurs his response, "Fine."
Ichigo slowly remembers that Aizen never accepts easy answers, as the older male's smile becomes more forced than usual. Pulling himself back into his mind away from the events that are about to unfold before him again, he wishes for what feels like the thousandth time that they would just let him die. Aizen stalks across the room towards the boy huddled in the farthest corner of the room. Gripping the boy's arm, Aizen flings Ichigo up onto the cot with enough force that Ichigo bounces on the bed. Aizen flips Ichigo over so that he is lying on his stomach.
At this point Ichigo is hiding away in his mind hoping that he can wait in there until Aizen leaves. But Ichigo knew that this probably wasn't going to turn out in his favor, he knew that this beating was going to be far worse than any of the others since he still hadn't learned anything yet. No one ever tried to stop them from happening; they all just turned a blind eye to them. It was like they had branded his soul, like they had made it their property to do away with as they wished. He had become nothing more than a doll that they played with until he was too broken to be of anymore use. Yet, he continued to live. It was a complete and utter mystery to him.
A sharp pain forces him back into reality. The pain becomes so unbearable that an anguished scream tears out of his throat and tears begin to stream down his face. No matter how hard Ichigo tries to ignore the terribly immense pain, he can't as Aizen continues to thrust into him. Ichigo claws at the stone walls and the bed trying to get away from Aizen as the older male continues to piston in and out of him. Soon Ichigo stops struggling altogether and just lays there limp, seeing as he can't do anything to fight back and that no one is going to answer his pleas for help. Aizen continues to pound mercilessly into the boy beneath him while gripping harshly onto Ichigo's slim hips. The closer Aizen came to completion the tighter his grip became on Ichigo's hips and the more ruthlessly he pounded into the teen's passage causing him to rip Ichigo's entrance. After what seemed like hours Aizen finally came and pulled himself out of Ichigo's abused and unprepared entrance. As Aizen was leaving the room he picked up a blanket from the floor and threw it on top of the half naked teen before finally exiting the room.
Blood and semen ran down Ichigo's inner thighs as he curled up into a ball on the bed and clutched the thin blanket tighter around him with just the tips of this bloodied fingers showing. Ichigo felt disgusting, no he felt filthy and he hated it. He wanted to take a shower to scrub at his skin until it was red and raw and still keep scrubbing until he finally felt clean again. Ichigo would've gotten up if it wasn't for the awful pain still radiating down his lower back. So he just gave into the exhaustion that was threatening to consume him and drifted into a world where things were different, where things were better. He never wanted to wake up and face the nightmare that people called reality.
Grimmjow cringed as the gut wrenching scream reached his ears again. Gin just kept smiling and didn't seem fazed in the least from the noise and Ulquiorra was as emotionless as ever. The trio continued down the bleak halls towards the security room as the screams seemed to go on forever.
Unable to take it anymore Grimmjow snapped, "I thought this was a treatment center, not a torture center!"
"It is a treatment center, but it's run by Aizen. So, what did ya expect Grimm-kitty?" Gin asked with his ever present smile. "Happy go lucky patients running around down the halls cured of their mental issues?"
"Maybe not that exactly, but I didn't think even Aizen would stoop this low," grumbled Grimmjow.
"Well you'll just to pretend that it doesn't bother you until we're done here," stated Gin.
Grimmjow grumbles profanities under his breath as they continued down the corridor. They stopped in front of the security room, where Ulquiorra would be working until they were done here. After they left Ulquiorra at the security room, Gin and Grimmjow continued down another bleak hallway to the hall that Grimmjow would be taking care of. Gin had been working undercover in Aizen's Treatment Center for about a couple years now and he knew where everything was located, even though it took him a couple months to memorize everything in the maze like building. After working here for so long, Gin had finally gained Aizen's trust and had become his right hand man. Gin knew everything about the building they were presently working in to Aizen's gang, which had quite a lot of territory and had become quite notorious for their violent ways.
The hallway Grimmjow would be covering was just as bleak as all of the others, except for the curtains that covered the windows to the patient's rooms were midnight blue in this hallway.
"Ya know, I'm starting to think this is a mental institute or something," Grimmjow commented as he stared down his bleak hallway.
Gin looked thoughtful for a moment before answering, "It's more like a prison," and with that he walked away down another hallway towards his station.
Mumbling under his breath he walked down the hall he was working in and took in the names of the patients he was charged with taking care of. The hall wasn't one specific gender or group of people; it was a mix of everything. Continuing down the hall Grimmjow looked for one name in specific and when he didn't find it he grew aggravated, but kept himself in check. Under each name were specific instructions for each person, but one name caught his attention the most out of all the dozens of names.
Ichigo Kurosaki:
Do not interact with patient. Only provide necessary care when need. Patient is under the official care of Dr. Aizen.
Now this is quite interesting.