Divergent paths
I don't own bleach, I'm not good enough to make that kind of stuff, and if I did Hitsugaya would have taken over as captain commander after Yamamoto died, since I don't like him very much.
This story is a combined production. The story of Virgil is written by Erin Ellis.
Prologue: Virgil: The journey starts with a 50. Cal magnum.
I walk a lonely road, I don't know were it goes, but its the only one I've ever known, and I walk alone.
September 8
Walking the streets of karakura, a lone student wasn't a strange sight. If they knew Virgil and what was about to happen, they would have ran or proven the better half of human nature by helping. If the occupants of that street had know, it would be empty.
With that insight into the nature of the road Virgil was on, the story continues.
A hidden smile was on the features of Virgil Walker as he enjoyed the music for the last time.
The device was good, but the sum standing between him and bank account emptier than the time it was hacked necessitated a pawn shop.
At least I have something to look forward to, thought Virgil.
The last day of the manga convention started at 4:00, and someone else was paying, meaning the trip was guilt free for his wallet.
His thoughts turned to the unlikely friendship that had sprung up between him and the kid from America. They had met on the first day of the convention, discovered they liked the same stuff, and had a few soda's together. Since then they had had a temporary friendship, since the other kid was on his way back to the states in a few day.
Good kid John, thought walker.
The kid in question was actually Jonathan Mason, from California, more specifically, a section of the Mohave desert that you couldn't be more specific about without creating your own map.
The convention they were attending was mobile, so they had met in Tokyo, and followed the convention to its final night in his home town of karakura.
The song ended, and Virgil stopped in front of the last place he would ever see his Ipod. A pawn shop so shady its name was Total Eclipse.
"Hey, my man dude, want a joint."
The expression inspired by Virgil's death glare was akin to the expression of the crucified.
"I'm here to hawk a Ipod, mention drug's and I will stash your corpse in a hole darker than this shop at midnight."
The vendor gave a nervous grin, and asked to look at the device.
Virgil hit delete playlist, and passed it across the counter.
After a minute of inspection, the vendor spoke.
"$200." "$250", responded walker.
"$225."
"Deal," replied the vendor, since Virgil had taken out a lighter, and he was quite rightly scared for his excessively oily hair.
When needed, Virgil was a very scary person.
"Fork it, fifty's and if any are counterfeit or marked, your going to lose a lot more than a refund."
Slowly moving his had away from the cash box that he had been reaching, the pawn shop owner moved over to a wall safe, and took out some fifty's, a twenty and a five.
The Total eclipse used American cash, instead of yen.
"Nice doing business," CRASH.
Every one on the street heard the crash, and was looking for were it came from until a bone curdling scream split the air.
At that point it was every man for himself.
Virgil did a quick scan of the shop. He saw a massive handgun on a peg.
"How much."
800 dollars, responded the vendor, momentarily pausing in shoving the refrigerator in front of the door.
The vendor reached into the dairy section of the refrigerator and pulled out a sawed off.
Chaos was a problem, but never worth losing business over.
Virgil ripped his wallet from his pants pocket, threw it on the counter with the 225, grabbed the revolver, and the three speed loads next to it.
"Sorry about the window," said Virgil as he threw the one chair that wasn't bolted down at it, leaping out in a hail of glass.
Since his latest client was now armed, the owner wasn't about to complain about the window, just start boarding it up.
Sprinting towards the alley the scream had come from, Virgil hefted the massive handgun.
The revolver was a 500 S&W Magnum, possibly the most powerful hand gun on the planet, S&W attempt to regain that title after that Clint Eastwood movie.
What was in the alley was one of the strangest sights Virgil had ever seen.
A young woman dangled 10 feet of the ground held up by nothing that Virgil could see.
Virgil would have wondered if that was really parmesan he had put on his pizza last night if he hadn't known what being drugged felt like.
Since their was nothing else he could do, walker fired the massive gun towards were the center of mass would be for a giant creature occupying the space that was apparently holding up the young woman.
The definitely inhuman roar was enough to persuade Virgil to fire another two rounds.
Blood rushed from a wound in what he couldn't see, and the Thing hurled the girl at Virgil.
"Crap," he whispered, doing his best to brace since dodging, even if he had time would end up with the girls blood joining the creatures on the concrete.
Should never have learned that bushido crap, thought Virgil, as the girl collided with him.
As the know winded, bruised, and awkwardly positioned Virgil pushed himself to his feet, a crack in the air formed at the end of the alley revealing black.
The now bleeding creature ran for the opening, with Virgil, on his feet, running after it.
"Damn code of the F***ing samurai," whispered walker as the break in reality loomed closer.
He couldn't let some monster escape to heal, he had to kill it, before it had the chance to kill anyone else.
Right as it stumbled through, Virgil leapt into the air, his feet firmly set on a path of danger, almost certain death and equally certain absence of pizza.
Chapter 1: A desolate path
(A/N: From this point on, Virgil is going to be told from a first person view for almost all of his story) It is a combination of on the spot flashes and journal style sections
Warning this story will contain gore, mention of substance abuse, mention of cannibalism, and censored language. I have never been addicted to a controlled substance, so I winging on the withdraw symptoms
I crossed that F***ing portal, and what was on the other side was like nothing I ever saw in my life. I was in a dark tunnel, with a road of light appearing in the path of what I could make out was a bleeding heat haze. Of course said path was disappearing.
"Holy shit!"
Sprinting at the thing, was the only option open, so I followed it.
Thankfully, it looked like it had to concentrate on maintaining the path, otherwise it would have attacked me.
Even if I can't see it clearly, I can see enough of an outline to figure out how its positioned.
In other words, I'll have a seconds warning before I'm launched into the darkness, between dimensions, or were ever we are.
There's a damn exit opening.
Time to do something stupid and impulsive.
Of course I'm chasing a monster demon thing through a dimensional hole, so my situation can't get much worse.
Aww shit, I thought as I sprinted past the thing, in range of an attack, I just jinxed myself.
With a quick turn, I push off the path, into the air like those guys in the movies and put the last two rounds in my gun into were the head should be.
I sail out of the opening, and all I have time to do is wonder how the hell its night before I hit sand.
Correction, I hit sand hard.
Ever tried to football tackle a 250 pound guy.
I haven't either, but my guess is it doesn't hurt as much as hitting a solidly packed sand dune from 10 feet in the air.
The portal was about six feet of the ground and I was four feet above the bottom of it.
All I can do is grit my teeth, and put in a new cartridge. The great thing about speed loaders, It works same as a clip, load, empty, discard. Its a hell of a lot faster than chambering rounds 1 by 1, which was the last thing I need right now.
What ever it is exits, the portal closes and I let it have two in the gut.
My hand aches from recoil, my shoulders bruised, and gunshots are really loud.
My situation is, about to drop the gun, ears ringing, bruised shoulder, 13 bullets, and a bleeding creature charging.
A half a second later, my wrist hurts even more, can't hear anything, down to 10 bullets and big and invisible is finally dead, about 3 feet from my eyeballs.
One of my bullets is caught on something, so I feel it.
When my hand touches it, a blurry white mask comes into view.
In fact, the whole thing is slightly clearer since I came out this end.
The damn thing is decomposing fast, soon all that is left is the mask.
Falling back on the little survival training I have, I start using the mask thing to shovel sand into a sort of kids snow fort, except with sand. I move the blood soaked sand under were the masked thing fell away from me.
In a place you can see to the horizon on, chances of their being know predators are non existent. Wounds, or blood attract predators, ergo, keep away from that blood.
An hour later, or so my watch tells me, the moon hasn't moved, I have a sort of packed cave, and I'm freezing my ass off.
Simple fact, deserts at night, very cold.
I use my jacket to block the entrance to what is know a cigar tube shaped sand cave. It's sort of like a sleeping bag except with sand, and not touching you.
I learn that first night that every sound is loud in a place like this.
I expect to become a very light sleeper if I survive over a week.
Morning, or so my watch tells me comes, and its time to make plans.
"Think walker, you survived Chicago gangs before you ended up in japan, you can survive this. Just remember wilderness survival and Gary palsun."
Think like you did when all I cared about was living, revenge and my next fix.
After 4 years, the thought of a fix still makes me want it.
I traded life for a powder in a bag, a needle in the arm, a damn chunk of black crud to chew, alcohol in bottle.
Then a man saved me from it.
I've been too stupid to stay out of trouble since, always getting into it for the right reasons, he said.
Calculated analysis, spindly trees, closer examination show they are a rocky crystal like flint. Potential weapon, possible, potential fuel not possible. Sand, fine grained, moveable, possible to pack to a semi solid structure, more likely use, to move aside and create pit trap. Weird mask thing, warmth as clothing negligible, protective potential high, use strap from gun to tie on.
After examination of area for a half mile roughly in all directions, the area is all the same, no vegetation, or large rock formations in close area. Conclusion, only source of food, big game. Really big invisible demon game.
My assets are as follows. One very large gun with equally large recoil, 10 rounds, a solar powered watch, a lighter, with limited fuel, 3 sticks of gum, a single granola bar, a Swiss army knife, and one set of cloths.
Granola bar is to be saved, It won't make a difference if I can't find a way to bring one of the local creatures down.
From the few lessons I took that involved deserts, water is often beneath the surface, so
I started digging. For an hour I lost my self in repetition, scoop, push, pack into wall against wind, repeat. The simple rhythm of motion is intoxicating. It takes the mind off problems, leaving only the simplicity of the task.
Guess I'm just paranoid, but I couldn't enjoy it as much as I wanted, had to keep an eye out. Any how, after that hour I set to breaking limbs of the trees. After a mere half hour I had the ugliest collection of spears you ever saw, but I had something. Hatchet this is not, but it is a hell of a way to get started.
Exhausted, I crawled into the hole and slept as soundly as I could.
Day one was officially over.
Of course day two, was began with me using the bathroom.
Hunger was beginning, so I guess it was time to began a hunting plan.
Going off and trying to shoot one was a lousy idea.
The smart play was make one come here and kill it then.
I still hadn't figured out how to get around the decomposition problem.
I hoped that if I moved fast I could get a chuck before it disappeared.
I wasn't desperate enough or cruel enough to try eating before decomposition.
Bushido, honor before survival.
I swear, the Japanese are very unusual people.
I focus on digging a pit trap. Spears at the bottom. Then I lay a frame work of branches, and my jacket over it before covering it with sand. I then did one of the craziest things a man can do.
I cut myself.
Now before anyone screams EMO DUDE, as I said earlier, blood attracts predators, and the only blood I had to work with was my own, meaning for the trap to work at least a little of it had to be here.
Oh and I forgot to mention, smart things look for a corpse and these things are smart enough to open portal things, so I had to be there. I position my self off to the side of the pit, almost completely buried by sand, since, A. sand would have blown over a person's body, and B. it is damn cold out here. It wasn't tell about six hours later something took the bait. Now I knew this place was making these thing slightly easier to see, since I could actually see the edges of the thing. It was like a lizard, with an octagonal mask, confirming that they had masks. It wasn't being held on by something meaning it was growing from it face.
Damned weird.
Good news, potential food, bad news, it walked right past the stupid trap. Forcing myself to lay still I waited. With one giant and very tight hand, It lifted me from the sand. How it opened a hole in the mask to show a mouth I don't know, but I took the opportunity to put a pair of rounds into its mouth.
Great news, It fell over backwards roaring driving its self into the spike pit. Really bad news, it didn't let go of your truly.
The damn dying thing pulled me into my own damn trap, and left me with two inches between me and the wrong end of a pointy spear.
Then something interesting happened, the thing started disintegrating, except the parts punctured by the spears, and touching me. So I was left lying on a collection of bloody chunks. I removed one from a spear, and nothing happened. I threw it away, and instantly it started disintegrating. They decayed rapidly if not attached to anything.
(A/N: If your reading this, you should have seen enough of bleach to know that hollow eat hollows and dissolve very quickly. This is my reasoning behind how hollows can eat each other. They are basically spirit particles, held together when alive, separating at death, unless something else holds them together. Since hueco mundo has even high concentration of spirit particles than soul society, even the trees are saturated, so the spears give the meat enough energy to hold together.)
Despite being attached to the spears, the edges of those pieces were starting to dissolve.
It looked like for some supernatural reason, these monsters could only be held together by a person for a long period.
This place was damn freaky, but survival dictated adjustment, meaning I had to carry most of this with me if I wanted to keep it. Also, I ended up with another mask, they seemed the last thing to disintegrate, so as long as I had it for a period of time it would remain.
(A/N: if you have seen the anime, Ashido had a cloak of hollow masks so they can obviously hold together in close proximity to spirit energy)
That night, I put in another half an hour into water digging, 9 feet down, still no luck.
The hole was slopped, so I could climb out.
The work of bringing the meat back, and digging had temporarily taken my mind of the disturbing fact that I was going to in fact have to eat what ever these things were.
After setting up a sort of grate of woven branches, I placed the meat on it and started heating it with my lighter.
The whole process of cooking a few pounds of the meat took over 40 minutes.
I placed a large chunk of curved tree under the meat to collect the dripping juices, since that was about all I was going to get to drink.
I hardened my self against the expected bad taste of the meat, and took my first bite.
The meat tasted halfway between chicken and pork.
The actual taste was weird, but not bad.
About seven minutes later after the meal, I felt an urge to eat more.
F***.
I knew this feeling, and I had left it behind six freaking years ago.
The meat was addicting, like a drug.
I was falling fast towards a way of life I left behind.
Now I was faced with death or addiction for a second time.
Hell the last time I had almost died, and I still woke up cold wanting the feeling in my system so badly.
Know my life was balanced on that freaking sensation.
I woke up three times that cold night, pain in my gut, and the far worse desire to feed.
Day three.
It was morning, so I went to check the pan of rock I had left out.
It was covered in a substance that looked like purple bacon grease.
I had been right, I had something to work with.
Know deserts are cold, and my jacket was getting worn, so if I didn't find a new source of heat, I was dead in my sleep.
What lay on that rock was tallow, a substance derived from animal fat. Also its flammable, so I had my heat source.
I estimated their was a good ten pounds of fat on the remaining meat, enough to make a few pounds of tallow.
Even a small flame generates heat, so I had a large new heat source.
I spent another few hours gathering what ever skin was on the creature, and stretching it across some more tree limbs. Once my cloths wore down, this was going to have to keep me warm.
Another hour of digging, four spent making another trap, which I would check later.
This trap just needed something to pass by, stick its foot in, and fall on the spikes.
When I head the scream of pain, I could go over and finish it.
Its so strange how close and far the line separating a human from a demon is.
All it took was a nudge to bring you to its edge.
Going over that edge was the farthest distance to go.
I don't know if its the same for others, but even in sight of that line, I wouldn't cross it to save my life.
I was getting frightfully close though.
With the time remaining, I cut some of my hair, braided it into wicks, and made three candles. It took four hours, with on necessary break to eat the some meat.
I brought myself to the edge of withdraw, ate a small enough amount to stave it off and go back to work.
The less of what ever it was in this meat in body, the better. For once my damn past was helping. I knew what withdraw felt like.
The moment that thought hit, a tear formed in my eye. I rubbed it away and licked it, since I couldn't spare the liquid.
An idea struck me, and all thoughts of that time in my past were cast aside, as I ran to find a rock.
Once I found a large enough rock, I ran back inside and put it next to the one collecting tallow. I leaned up, and deliberately put a few grains of sand in my eye.
In an instant tears welled up, and I let them fall on the slab. I also wiped my self down, putting as much sweat on the slab as I could. The key was salt.
If, I could salt the meet, it would slow the decay, and preserve it, increasing my chances of survival.
In a world that demanded pain, mine goes a long way.
If I needed to work, bleed and cry to live, I would give this hell my sweat, blood and tears.
My reverie was interrupted by a roar of pain.
I checked the gun as I ran towards the trap and spun the cylinder into position. Three rounds would have to be enough.
It took only a few minutes to get to the trap.
What I found was a bunch of broken spears, and an empty pit.
Of course the damn thing got loose.
I scanned for signs of a blood trail, and realized their wasn't any trail. Their were no prints anywhere except mine coming in.
That meant,?
I dove to the side just as the freaking thing came up out of the sand beneath me.
Nothing flying could have gotten caught in the trap meaning the damn thing had tunneled in.
I whirled, and almost fell over.
For the first time I could see one of these things. Come to think of it, ever since I caught the last one, I could see the meat. I had assumed it was because it was dead, but ever since I had ate the first one, it had become fully visible.
The creature was a giant worm like thing with a trapezoid shaped mask. It was gray, had segments and was an about twice as big as either of the other ones.
On the subject of big mean and exceedingly ugly, I got one shot off before it hit me hard.
Some people talk about seeing stars when hit, well this was like getting your head shoved into the sun. I had blood in my mouth, whiplash, and at least one broken rib.
I was about 30 feet from were I had been, and my eyes cleared just in time to see it digging into the ground.
Shit.
Their was only one reason it would leave, and the vibration of sand getting closer confirmed that.
With what little energy I had, I stood, and aimed the revolver straight down.
The creature erupted mouth first from the ground.
My feet were on both sides of its mouth, and I was launched a good forty feet straight up. The worm towered at what I guess was about 26 feet, when I put my last two rounds in my gun down its open gullet.
I hit the mouth of the worm, as it withered it agony. It was all I could do to keep the jaws apart. Considering its strength, and that I couldn't get out, I did the only evasive maneuver I had left, I let myself fall. Then, I held on, as its mouth closed I held on, choking the damn worm from the inside.
The damn thing withered like I was a hot poker, and started rolling. Considering we were at the top of a damn 45 degree slop 900 feet up, I spewed from dizziness before we were half way down. I managed to lodge the mask from the first one into the throat, effectively choking it to death.
When the creature finally stopped thrashing, I started waiting for it to disintegrate.
About 2 minutes later I remember that it wasn't going to do that as long as I was in here.
In my defense, being swallowed was kind of at the forefront of my mind. You ever had to cut your way out of a giant worm. If you have, my heart goes out to you. Now imagine that you don't have any knives. After the most disgusting 3 hours of my life I managed to escape through a combination of chewing and clubbing my way out. I came out choking on worm bile, which by the way tastes like 3 week old rotten skunk, cow tongue, leather and rubber, high off what ever is in these things, suffering from oxygen deprivation, and it was all I could do not to stick my face in the copse and devour it like a damn animal.
What ever the hell was in them hooked harder than anything I had ever had.
I ripped the damn mask off its face, grabbed as much meat as I could sling over my back and half limbed half crawled back to my camp. Half the damn thing was under sand from a wind storm. I managed to unbury everything, had a little meat as the damn withdrawal set in. I crawled into my tiny hole and slept like the dead.
Day 4
I woke up thinking that, and this random thought about how four is death, and that damn Artemis Fowl book went through my head. I would have laughed except my broken rib made that damn impossible. I lay there wondering what force of will had let me drag forty pounds of damn worm meet over a mile to camp with a damn broken rib.
I set to work, because I couldn't afford to stop, I needed damn water, and I needed it now. I hadn't had more than some meat juice and the water from my own tears after the salt was mostly removed.
I figured I could hold on maybe 4 days before I died from water loss.
The one damn good thing about how cold it was, I didn't sweat unless I was doing physical labor.
This place was damn weird. The freaking moon didn't move, or even change phases. It was like this place was locked into one damn eternal night. If muramasa had been a painter, this would be Juuchi Yosamu (ten thousand cold nights)(A/N: Juuchi Yosamu was a legendary sword made by the famous sword smith muramasa.)
I groaned as I stood. I half walked half fell into the water hole and started digging.
Eight damn hours of straight digging and still nothing. I was a good 25 feet below camp, in what was doing a decent impersonation of a mine shaft, with a frame work of yet more damn stick holding it together It was a well at a 15 degree slope, and the only way I was getting out was the damn handholds I was leaving. After surviving three crazy things, I was damned if I was going to dehydrate at the bottom of a F***ing well shaft.
Every part of my damned body was aching, and I was to tired of dragging sand to the top of the shaft in a damn monster skin bag that I had finally made and tied shut with a strip of skin. I lay their exhausted wondering how I had even made it this far. Thankfully that rib had finally stopped throbbing?
WHAT THE HELL!
I had been laid out with a broken rib before the throbbing had taken a week to go away, with me laying in a hospital bed. I pulled up my shirt and looked at it.
I felt like I was half recovered after a day.
What the hell was in that worm meat? It was the only thing that could possibly explain this. The freaking meat had healed me.
No, the rib was still broken, but I was healing faster and pushing my self harder than I ever had.
Know that I finally looked back with clarity, The damn worms spear wounds had been almost healed, and the bullet wounds in the throat had stopped bleeding before it died.
Looked like their was something good about the freaking creatures around here.
It took a lot of willpower to resist the urge to eat more meat.
Two hours later when the withdrawal hit, I ignored it. I needed to keep working, and see if the effects of the meat lasted after I stopped eating, otherwise when I finally got out of this damn hell hole, the freaking cumulative damage would finish me. Four hours later, I was a good 40 feet down. And the sand felt a little wetter.
My mouth and eyes watered from the damn need for the meat. I could feel my pulse, trying to distribute what little was still in my system to my devouring body. It felt like my muscles were crawling under my skin, and my pores started widening painfully. My movements were sluggish, and a fever broke out. Something purple dripped from my tear ducts, and my spine felt like it was doused in ice water.
(A/N: I think some of these are real symptoms, the other are made by me for this specific addiction)
I had only been on for 3 days, and the symptoms were like a year of damn coke.
Something inside came dangerously close to breaking and I just lay their and cried into the sand.
My greatest nightmare was my only chance of survival, and if I came off it wrong, it would be a death I don't want to imagine. My body finally stopped spasming, and I had my answer, the rib was fine, but I wasn't sure I would ever be.
To anyone who has questions about virgil's past, that will be answered when someone in the story shows up for him to explain it to, that or flash backs. If you want to know how he is so good at survival stuff, it comes from his past and Gary palsun. He is able to kill hollows with a revolver, because he is at close range, with a very powerful hand gun, and the ones he's been shooting at have no heirro. Also, the tree's are still tree's even if they are crystalline material, so he can bend them into the shapes I've described.
Review, for I am but a lowly fanfiction writer, who has no Idea wether or not this works for a story.