White was the dominant color...
But it had been interrupted with the crimson that seemed to splatter in unending patterns, slowly sinking into the lush whiteness of the fortress that they were all imprisioned in. A palace. That's what the brunnete male had told them. To live and wait for them to take their ultimate goal. To live on, in peace. But what did he know of peace? Oh he knew the monsters the male had created. That roamed the halls, all underminding, yet willing to go over the top to please their lord. Their Soverign. And what of himself? What was he willing to give to stand in the position beside the self proclaimed God that he had given everything to?
The answer seemed unduly and disgustingly simple. It was one word. One word that seemed to hold more power than anyone, even the God knew. But he would come to realize in time. After all, it was only natrual. Nothing. He would give the male Nothing.
But what of himself? He had gone around, the smile stretched on his face. Grin split, his cheeks raised, in a way that defined his face as all else thought of him. Disturbing. Oh but what a proper analysis! Not even his dear Rangiku could see through him. But when had he ever let his guard down? She knew him enough, but she couldn't see past his betrayl. And who was he to interrupt it? He loved the saddened look upon her face. The look of pain and heart break. Oh how he taunted her. How he haunted her memories. Her dreams. He had shaped her so that she could not live without him. And it could only turn out much much better than he had ever intended it to! But some part of him, deep down that he kept quite missed the woman. Her smiles. Sad expressions as she watched him walk away. The sighs, the mewls that she made when he embraced her. And perhaps part of him, the one he thought buried deep within him, had brought him to do this.
It had taken a moment for it to come back to him as he surveyed the room, splattered. How artistic and delicious! The red that interuppted the whiteness of the walls. Had soaked so throughly into the clothes of the pair on the floor. Crimson rivlets seemed to drip from his hand. Staining the odd pale as well. Dripping to the floor from his fingers, seeming to leave the tell tale destruction in his wake. He surveyed the bodies again and let out a malicious chuckle. Ulquiorra and the girl. Orihime Inoue. The would be prisioner. The one he had somewhere deep down thought to use as Rangiku Matsumoto's replacement. And he had.
He had taken delight in her pitiful cries. Her painful mewls at what he did. Dragging his nails across her body, breaking the skin and making the tear tracks stain her porcelin skin. Which he only licked away in delight. It was only when he pulled away that he was utterly disgusted. The sobbing, the blood. None of this was Rangiku. The girl could never be her! And he had sought to use this woman as her replacement? He was disgusted, even if he had enjoyed all her struggles and cries. He hated the girl. Hated her in more ways then one for tempting him like this. And it was only fair that he repay her. He had taken his sword and drove it through the chest of the naked woman. Twisting it back and forth until the blood poured relentlessly pooling at his feet.
It was then the door opened and with swift grace he turned to look at the male who had walked in. Ulquiorra. The 4th and emotionless espada. But it did not escape the notice of Ichimaru Gin of his shock at the woman at his feet. Someone he long suspected was the lover of the male. With smile still in his features he reached out, and in a single grip crushed the throat of the male. The windpipe making a barely audible sound, but one that brought the male much delight. Digging his fingernails in with purpose he ripped the throat out, destoryed as it was, and threw it. Loving the thud it made on the opposite wall, and watched as he crumpled to the floor. Bending over he wiped the blood from his beloved blade on the garnments, already being ruined by the blood running from his no longer there throat, and placed it back.
It was ok with him, whatever punishment the brunnette that was their leader could hand him. He had a delightful time! And it was sure in his mind, that Matsumoto Rangiku, what ever she was doing now, at this moment in time. Was worse of than he was by far.
Ok so what do you think? I couldnt help but want to do a fiction with a grusome turn. This one was Ichimaru Gin's point of veiw. The next chapter will be of Rangiku. Only 2 chapters in this story though. So rate a review please! It would be much appreciated!