He lie there on the cold, hard ground, completely exhausted. He couldn't move even the smallest limb on his body no matter how hard he tried, and he had definitely tried. He supposed it was the body's natural reaction to running for hours on end, trying to escape the grizzly death nipping at his heels. He'd had no food or water for at least twenty four hours and his stomach did not fail to make that little fact apparent even though he was bone tired. The desperate run for his life he'd been engaged in had been fueled by adrenaline and sheer will power, that is, until the adrenaline wore out, leaving him to push himself to keep going with the hope that he'd somehow escape his reapers and reunite with his family.

A humorless snort escaped his throat, startling him with its suddenness- he'd been unaware that he could even make such vocalizations what with the state his throat was in. His family was surely gone by now. He knew they loved him dearly but he also knew that his father would not risk his siblings lives for the sake of his alone. The sake of a son who was a failure in every sense of the word. The son who caused the death of his family's beloved matriarch. The son who was sure to cause their deaths if they chose not to move on without him. Fate was a cruel bitch and she'd dealt him a shitty hand in life, one he'd played with all the skill and finesse of a novice. Perhaps it'd all been for a reason though. His father had always tried to reenforce that little belief. "Everything happens to you for some reason," he'd said."and maybe that reason won't be obvious to you at first but, as time goes on, understanding will come. Life is about learning, my son. Don't ever turn a blind eye to knowledge but also remember not to look too intently at ignorance."

His father was a wise man, albeit, a little unorthodox, and he would miss the man like a severed limb if he made it out of his ordeal alive. He'd miss his siblings as well. They had always been a tight knit family. He and his brother being twins as well as elder siblings to their two younger twin sisters had dictated that. Not to mention their family had basically been shunned by villagers in their hometown because of their beliefs and...talents. He actually found it sad how so many people, young and old, thought and acted. Everyone was so closed minded and those few who weren't , the ones that had the bravery to speak out, were cast aside and treated like untouchables. Salvation was scarce and fickle in these parts and higher powers governed the minds of people, made them bow, corrupted them. Most people in these times would sell their own mothers out if it would mean they'd be awarded a slice of the heavenliest hell in existence. The protection and wealth offered by those higher powers, those dastardly murderers, could make anyone bend over backwards for them. That was why he was so bitter towards his brethren. They all lived amongst each other, smiled to each other's faces, asked about the well being of each other's families, but it was all a farce. A farce that he and his family had seen through. They'd tried to do good and keep their heads low -they'd only ever come into the main part of the village in order to shop for necessities- but the prospect of land and bountiful food and riches were too great a bribe for the villagers they'd called neighbors. They'd been betrayed and as a result, hunted. Slaughtered.

If only he hadn't been such a disgrace when it came to their practices, she would still be with him, them, smiling that beautiful, contagious, smile of hers. Offering warmth to his family- restoring balance to their crumbling world.

The snapping of a branch of some sort brought him out of his depressing musings, his breath leaving him in a silent gasp. With what little energy he'd scrounged from lying stagnant for such a short amount of time, he turned his head towards the sound. He stared intently, breath bated, at the large bush he had collapsed beside, wishing he could see through it's thickly leafed branches to what or whom was surely on just the other side of it.

Goose bumps broke out on his skin as the temperature around his prone body suddenly dropped. He felt a familiar pressure weighing him down from his very soul before he caught sight of the wispy black tendrils of fog creeping through the bush and slowly wrapping themselves around his outstretched hand. They slithered up his arm like three deadly black snakes before fanning out around his body. He could feel the cold mist caressing his cheek that wasn't against the dirt he lay upon. His normally chaotic and vibrant head of orange hair that lie damp and dirty from sweat and Earth was tousled slightly by the small breeze the misty substance created. With his heart sitting on his tongue he watched the bush in front of him shift as a white clad body stepped in front of him. His brown eyes slowly traveled the body, landing on a pair of cold eyes the color of the poisonous intent behind them. He knew those large green eyes that held no emotion. He knew them too well actually, for those eyes haunted his dreams every night. Those were the eyes of the man who had taken his mother's life in cold blood. The eyes of a murderer.

In a way it was suiting that the man those horrid eyes belonged to would also be taking his life away. His retribution was upon him.

"Your time has come, trash." monotoned the pale being before him as it stepped forward, pulling a dangerous blade from the sash on his trousers. The same cursed blade that had been imbedded into his mother's heart right in front of his eyes. Just the sight of the, now clean, metal made him feel sick to his stomach. He would now die by the very sword that he may as well have slain his mother with, with his own hands.

Anger and distaste suddenly welled up and overflowed from within his being as if his very soul detested that it was about to be set free by such a wretched katana.

"W-what's th' matter Schiffer? I t-to pathetic to do away with using y-yer pow...ers." his speech was was slurred and he fought to get through the stutter he'd suddenly developed but he felt proud of himself for even being slightly comprehensible.

"Pathetic indeed, Kurosaki. My abilities need not be wasted upon trash such as yourself." The blade of the man's sword came to rest upon his neck, the sheer acuteness of the metal causing it to nick his skin, small rivulets of crimson rising from the wound left to traverse his paler than usual skin unbidden. Eyes the color of cinnamon slid shut as his prone form awaited the inevitable. He was going to die, slaughtered like a lame horse, alone and cold.

On the outside he was the picture of calm resignation but, within, his very soul was in turmoil. His heart had bungee jumped off of his tongue and was bouncing around behind his ribs like a frightened rabbit. It hurt. He hadn't even been impaled yet, yet his heart hurt. No, it wasn't just his heart, his whole being hurt. It ached with a desire so base and instinctual that he had no choice but to acknowledge it.

Move.

Move!

MOVE! It screamed in tandem with his mind. He needed to escape. He needed to live. He was too selfish to die here. He wasn't ready!

The green eyed man above him narrowed his eyes and tilted his head of inky black locks to the side as he lie, prone before him, trembling with the need to get to his feet.

"Your attempt is for naught, Kurosaki. Your fate has been decided." the words were cold and laced with zero of the emotions one should have while about to take another's life. A white sleeved arm lifted, the blade at the quivering man's throat raising as well, as the pale figure made to end his life. Brown eyes widened as the sword arched downwards, towards his neck with the intent to behead, a scream tearing itself from his throat.

A shout of "No!" that he almost missed due to his own frantic scream was the last thing he heard before a burst of pure energy shot forth from deep within his body, temporarily blinding and simultaneously throwing his attacker away. The feeling that enveloped him next was easily the strangest and hardest to explain that he'd ever experienced. Imagine, if you will, those funky mirrors located inside of fun houses at your local fair, -the ones that make your body appear warped and disfigured- now imagine what it would feel like if your body was to actually contort that way. That is what the orange haired man felt at that moment. It was as if all of the bones in his body lost their solidity and became what was reminiscent of jello in the stages after its liquid form has started to cool but before it has become completely gelatinous. Then, he felt as if he was falling, still surrounded by blinding white light, before he was finally laying upon something soft. Opening his eyes that he didn't remember closing, the orange headed man was met with an open blue sky devoid of any clouds or murderous men with green eyes.

He laid stock still for what was surely a couple of minutes before a small childish face was invading his vision. The young girl standing at his side was rocking back and forth on her heels, clad in a light yellow dress, pink bow in her hair, frilly white socks, and the weirdest multicolored footwear he'd ever seen. They were pink, yellow, and white and looked to be made out of some type of strange cloth.

"Ethcuse me mithster, are you okay?"

He could not completely understand what the small child had said for she used some words he did not know, but he got the gist of it. He opened his mouth and tried to reply to the girl but when he found that his throat was just too dry to work correctly he simply nodded in the affirmative. At least, he thought he was okay.

The child beamed at him with a mouth full of sharp teeth, the front two teeth missing, as she jutted a short, slightly chubby, arm out toward him.

"Nel will help you up, mithster." she said by way of explanation. Figuring there was no harm in the innocent gesture the orange haired man took the offered hand and allowed the small girl to pull him into a sitting position. He grunted his thanks as he turned his head to take in his surrounding. There were many kids running about, laughing and screaming as they played on strange metallic objects. Many of the children were wearing articles of clothing he'd never seen before and some were carrying toys that also looked alien to him. Then, he caught sight of something that sent his heart beating rapidly in his chest. A mother shouted in horror as her small child stepped off of the grass covered ground and onto a long black floor where a huge, shiny, metal, thing, on peculiar wheels came rolling towards the boy. The creature made a very loud shrieking noise as it narrowly avoided the startled kid and continued on its way down the black floor. The oranget's eyes widened as he caught sight of a man inside of the creature.

What in God's name?! He was too busy inwardly panicking to notice the girl beside him trying to draw attention to the blood that had clotted and dried on his throat, or even the six foot-something man approaching him at a rapid pace with an angry scowl on his face.

AN: This is something that was born while I was watching The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm not sure when I'll have the next one out. I'm sorry about the summary, that was the best I could do without giving away too much info. Questions?

Review?

-SP