The general of the Thousand-Night-March stood on guard as her regiment surrendered to slumber, their lanterns winking out one by one, save for a few. The thousand-year old yokai hybrid tore off her mask and settled down on the limb of her tree, perched on a mound not far from the regiments campsite. It had been a long day for Rukia, sister-in-law of the High Warlord Byakuya. The battle against the invaders from the south had ended in their favour, but at a steep price in her eyes. Her personal attendants were nestled in various sleeping positions beneath the tall redwood tree, its branches blocking the rays of the pale twin moons dining in a sea of stars. The demon fire burned a low crimson pink, spluttering sparks of silver and orange.

The hybrid pulled her red scarf higher around her neck, covering the lower half of her fair skin and rose pink lips. To anyone looking at her from afar without any prior knowledge of her, they would've seen a fair skinned beauty, with luminescent eyes that shone like violet skies after sundown. They would've assumed that the girl's furry white fox ears were detachable, not a part of her body. That the long silver tail that swung beneath her was a part of prop, made from faux fur instead of flesh and blood. The petite woman tightened the sash that was wrapped up around her waist, keeping a hold on her twin katana blades. Her legs stretched out along the bough, covered in tight-fitting black tights and long thigh-length leather boots, with strips of leather bound about to keep

A slight shudder beneath the weight of a person heralded her brother's lieutenant and her comrade Renji Abarai, a tengu demon from the mountains. The crimson-haired warrior leaned against the trunk on the branch beneath her, his black bandana fluttering lazily in the breeze.

"Give me the total count," Rukia whispered firmly, her voice as soft as a caress.

"We lost thirteen good men and women, General," the man said, looking out at the collection of men within their regiment. "Twenty-one have suffered extremely strenuous wounds that could possibly affect them for the rest of their lives. Our scouts have suffered heavy casualties and we are running low on supplies."

The hybrid looked at the tengu with narrowed eyes. "That's a third of our regiment that have suffered impact from the southern attacks." The woman exhaled a soft flurry of snowflakes from her lips, watching them drift away on a breeze. "Send a three-man team to Helsing Fort. Notify Lord Kyoraku that if we are to arrive on time and with the rest of us alive, we will need additional aid from him."

Renji nodded and rubbed his neck. "Things have taken a dark turn these days."

Rukia nodded. "All these attacks from the south, the death of Lady Hisana, his authority being questioned by his own advisors. Something is not right." She turned her purple demon eyes on her friends' brown ones. "Rest up Renji," she counseled. "I can't have my best man fighting like the dead on the battlefield."

He chuckled, low and smooth like the note of a cello that hung in the air. In a blur he leapt down from his twenty feet perch, landing with a soft thud on the forest floor. Rukia looked through the thick branches at the twin moons Scylla and Tairyn, casting their differing shades of silver and gold on the realm below. The kitsune-snow demon hybrid was tired and wanted nothing more than to earn a few moments worth of rest to stock up on her energy levels.

But that was not to be.

The moment she closed her eyes, a sharp prick began at the nape of her neck, until it became an unbearable burning sensation that ran along her right arm. The general snapped her eyes opened and looked down at the offending arm, before ripping down the sleeve of her haori jacket. Her eyes widened as she saw a mark that she had not seen for a near three hundred years.

The woman moved at high speed, flicking all seven tails into the open behind her whilst bearing pearl-white fangs that glowed in the night, her hair elongating till it flowed behind her like a silver-spun cape. Her eyes changed to pure ice-blue as she left a trail of flakes in her wake, moving towards the skies above. Only once did this ever happen in her lifetime, once did a witch ever dare to try summon a yokai of her calibre, and they had suffered a fate worse than death. Whoever it was that dared called upon had better pray they were of better substance than the last one that dared to conduct the ritual to manifest her among the mortals. She rose up above into the clouds, feeling the illusive pull towards the Sango Gate - the bridge between the realms.

She pulled down her hand over her face, manifesting a blue oni mask over her face. The general felt herself shift into her corporeal form as she bypassed the watchtowers that guarded the doorway, whisping through the doors until her presence had vanished from Helsing.

Ichigo Kurosaki kicked the loose pebbles on the footpath, his held behind his head in a casual manner. The fourth year high school student huffed in exasperation, his annoyance at his classmates barely reaching breaking point. Keigo had set up a prank for Ichigo in the form of a stink bomb in science, but instead resulted in spilling flammable liquid during an experiment and setting off the sprinkler system in class. All of his hard work had gone to waste, and Keigo was left with nothing to do but plead and beg for the orange-haired teens forgiveness. After a quick beating Ichigo forgave his fool of a friend and left the matter at hand. The rest of his friends - Chad, Orihime, Tatsuki, and Mizuiro were quick to berate the brunnette for his stupid tricks as their own work had gone down the drain as well.

Che, stupid idiot, Ichigo thought

Ichigo walked along the winding footpath up the hill, the landscape barren of any man-made objects save for the lamp posts. Tall green trees swung their branches in the wind, their green adornments tossing and turning beneath the setting sun. A few high-school girls passed by on their bikes, giving him appreciative glances as they took in his tall, toned, handsome figure. The grey blazer was a bit loose on the arms, but the white shirt underneath pulled back against his taut chest and abdomen, the grey pants giving way to long legs that were full of power.

The young adult was unattuned to their attention, taking no notice of them as he carried on. He carried on up the hill till he came to a stop at a Shinto shrine. The place had been rundown by tie, looking nothing more than a shadow of its former self. Tangled vines and ivy crawled over the torii gate, the bright red paint faded to a dull rusty brown and peeling off in thick chips along the beams. The whole site had a sort of dark foreboding feel to it, as if there was something that was trying to push people away.

Ichigo had a strong sense of curiosity for this place, waltzing down beneath the gateway up to the shrine. A few birds flapped away at the mere shadow of his figure, crying out into the sky. He pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder and wandered aimlessly about the place, looking through the shattered frames of the windows, seeing glimpses of rooms within.

Ichigo came round to the backyard that oversaw a garden overwhelmed by mother nature. Twin japanese statues seated at the entrance of the garden were fractured and adorned with dead honeysuckle, marble chunks split about the place. He picked up one decapitated paw and tossed it about in his hand, his mind on other manners. Two weeks after tomorrow would be the anniversary of his mother's death, and his whole family would be heading off to visit her grave. Ichigo couldn't help but feel heartsick. Even after all these years he missed her warm loving arms, her bright smile that lit up the whole room. She was the centre of his universe, right up there with his old man and his twin sisters.

The temperature dropped a few degrees and Ichigo pulled his blazer closed, buttoning up a few buttons. He was about to turn when a faint red light emanated from the thicket of trees in the far corner. A faint chorus of voices drifted on the wind towards Ichigo, fanning the flames of curiosity. he slowly gravitated to the grove, taking note to be cautious.

The teen looked from behind a bush as he witnessed three figures standing in a circle. Two were the girls that had passed Ichigo earlier on while the other was a man wearing a mask to cover the lower half of his face. He had light purple hair and wore a red haori that hung loose on his shoulders. In the centre, red light pulsed brightly from a drawn circle in the centre, throwing shadows about behind them in distorted shapes that moved and thrived. Ichigo made a move to go closer until he saw the dagger appear in the hands of the man with the haori. The girls chanted louder while the man began to recite an incantation of sorts.

What the hell am I gonna do, Ichigo thought. He should turn around and call the police, that's what his conscience thought.

One of the girls turned her head up as if to sniff the air and spun around. staring down Ichigo from her position. She wore a sardonic smile and flicked her chin up.

Ichigo was shocked out of his stupor and spun about, only to come to face with the girl behind him. Her school uniform clung to her figure in an ill-fitting manner, her bright pink bra showing beneath.

"What a delicious specimen we have here," she hissed. Her tongue flicked out momentarily and her eyes glowed like yellow beams.

Demon, Ichigo thought. He let his bag fly at her and attempted to swing his fist in her face. She reappeared from behind and kicked him between the shoulder blades, forcing him to fly forward into the dirt. She reappeared beside him and kicked him on his side, smiling down with silver fangs.

"I haven't had eaten a human in a while," she said conversationally. Her cohorts reappeared beside her and stared down at the teenage boy. "Can we eat him master?"

The purple-haired man sneered beneath his mask at the boy who'd disrupted his ritual. he was on the verge of summoning a powerful yokai to add to his collection, and the mere presence of this boy had thrown everything off. He kicked the boy in his face three times to relieve himself off his anger, the boy helpless to do anything back in kind.

"You complete imbecile!" he said raved. "Who do you think you're playing with?"

Ichigo coughed, splatters of blood falling onto a broken mosaic piece beneath the dirt. "What the hell are you doing working with demons?"

Hanza arched one eyebrow. This boy had the gift of sight, enabling him to see the supernatural. If he hadn't interfered perhaps he could have spared the boy for his incompetence. Be that as it may, the boy had to be removed from existence. By all counts this boy was a mundane, and he would have no witnesses alive to recall what had occurred.

"Eat him," he ordered his demon familiars.

The girls smirked and wrinkled their eyes. Ichigo recoiled back in horror as their faces morphed, their skin stretching over their faces until it ripped apart, showing black leathery flesh beneath. Both blonde and brunette hulked over their legs until their bones snapped out at every odd angle imaginable.

"Dinner time!" The ragged brunette rasped sweetly.

Ichigo grabbed a nearby chunk of marble and prepared himself for their oncoming attack. The blonde rushed forward and widened her jaws, allowing him to stare into her gaping mouth that smelt of blood and charcoal. He readied himself, promising that he would not go down without taking a demon with him.

Just as she was about to ensnare her talons around his neck, the demon was struck, a pure white blade protruding from her chest. The yokai snarled and spun about only to drop and its knees while its head rolled off beside Ichigo.

Ichigo scrambled up in fright and backed himself up against a tree as he looked at the personage that appeared before him. The figure's back was turned to the orange-haired boy, displaying long silver hair that flowed in streams. Seven powerful tails flicked in such hypnotic fashion, caging Ichigo's intense curiosity. His hand began to go cold as if it were submerged in ice and he quickly rolled up his sleeve. A lilac mark began to rise to the surface and decorate the whole diameter of his wrist with archaic designs, ending with a fox head on the inside of his wrist.

What the hell is going on? He thought.

The figure before him walked slowly to the other yokai, who had slumped to the ground in a bowed position.

"General please - spare me! Please!" the brunette horror shouted, her skin peeling off like dried flakes. "I did not mean-

"You disturbed me," a cold, female voice whispered into the air. A fierce wind swept the leaves and dirt off the ground until it surrounded them all. Hanza backed away in fright as he looked at the sheer amount of power which had manifested before him. Maybe the ritual had gone right after all, he thought to himself. He bit back his cowardliness and stepped towards the yokai demon.

"You are subjected to my will, yokai," he ordered, his eyes glowing alight as he raised his hands up, his fingertips glowing alight.. "I have summoned you-

"A pathetic being such as yourself attempted to summon me?" the being asked amusedly. She gave a low chuckle and advanced towards the cowering demon. "I guess that means I know whom to slay then."

The witch looked on in confusion before he felt his body grow stiff. A dense weight crushed him from above, forcing him down onto his knees. Ichigo watched from his position as the demon familiar who'd been crying out still herself, her eye widening in fear and disbelief.

"My lady please, don't kill-"

The silver figure held out her katana as the head of the demon rolled off, the blackened tongue poking out from the rip in her cheek.

"Worthless creature," she said calmly. "Should have known better than to bind herself with a human."

The figure turned on the side, allowing Ichigo to see her side profile. The petite figure wore a blue kabuki fox mask, crafted with immense detail and adorned with impeccable design. The female had slight curves to her shape. The witchling was bowed before the yokai, incapable of moving from his position. She bent down and held his chin with one perfect slender hand, her nails long and polished. "Do you know who I am?" Her voice teased sadistically.

Hanza shuddered, his eyes widening.

"I am the phantom that haunts your every step, the shadow that creeps within your very soul. I am the prodigy of fear, the apprentice of war and nightmare," she said subtly, caressing his face. "I am the beast of legends, I am that which you cannot possibly fathom. My power is at a rank which is unattainable for all things, and you think you can summon me? That you can wield the will of the General of the Night March?"

Hanza began to shake violently, a cold hand taking hold of his heart within him. His breath began to rise about them as a fog and his eyes darted about him. The yokai placed one hand beneath his jawline and grasped it firmly.

"A warning for you, mortal" she said huskily to the figure. "Hell is no place for the weak." In one swift movement she twisted the head on a sharp angle, the sound of bone cracking echoing in the air. Ichigo's heart thumped aloud in his chest, his blood pumping in his ears. He couldn't believe it - his eyes had to be deceiving him. The looked at her fingers, seeing the bloodstains where her nails had pierced beneath his skin. With a slow, tantalizing motion, she licked the blood off one by one.

"Tastes like rotting tomatoes," she said repulsively, flicking any of the remains of her nails. The finger spun around to face Ichigo, and his heart leapt. Bright blue eyes glowed behind the mask, drilling holes within his face. He backed up even further until he was up on his feet, leaning against the tree for support. The demon placed one slender finger on her mask and tsked.

"What to do with you?"

Rukia had to say it - for a mortal he looked pretty tempting. And not just by his soul alone, she meant everything about him. He had quite a noble sense about him and his body held a certain . . . well, appeal to her. He was quite fit and seemed to be at the peak of his health, basking in the glories of his youth. Tall, a physical anatomy worth admiring, amber-gold eyes that glowed dimly in the twilight hours, reminiscent of the tiger demons that prowled about within her world. And that hair; bright orange, a far more vibrant and radiant colour than Renji's deep red locks.

She glided towards the stunned mortal, listening to his heart race throughout the air. Each breath he made was shallow, laboured as fear took hold of his heart. It was pleasurable, in a sick perverse way - to know that being in mere proximity of her could inspire such terror. But she wasn't quite sadistic as the rest of the demons in Helsing.

Upon standing in front of the boy, she tilted her head on an angle in confusion. Something was off about this boy. Throughout that entire time, he'd seem to be familiar with the demons, as if he'd come across them in his early day life. He had been prepared to take down a low-classed demon with him, a quality which she found foolish but commendable. It was only when she began to take the lives of those weaklings that he really began to panic. Her eyes radiated briefly as she looked to see if his soul had been marked by a Coven, placing him under the protection and tutelage of any known witch covens within the zone. His spirit was clean of any markings, burning a bright and glorious gold.

Perhaps I could eat him, she pondered.

The boy glared down at her, overcoming his moment of panic and waited.

"Well?" he huffed, his breath curling like phantom fingers. "Aren't you going to finish me off?"

Rukia chuckled, her voice ringing out like bells. "Quite the provoker, aren't you? I'm actually quite tempted to just let you walk away and carry on with your pathetic existence."

She let her eyes wander down his form until her eyes rested on the markings on his wrist. Her eyes narrowed and she swiped away her mask into mist, feeling her hair revert back to its short locks. Rukia ignored the sharp intake of breath the mortal took and snatched his hand up. Her eyes widened and flickered between ice and violet. Her tolerance level broke and she let forth a blast of reiatsu, icing over everything around her. Her eyes danced between the boy's face and her insignia embedded in his skin.

"How did you do this?" She hissed, snapping one hand around his throat. The boy looked down at her with wide eyes.

"What makes you think I know about this crap?" He yelled back, trying to wriggle himself out of her grip. Despite her short five-two height, she could still bring those taller her down to their knees. "I don't know what this crap is! It just showed up you stupid yokai!"

Rukia ripped her hand away and scoured the ground, her anger radiating off her in waves of wrath. She came to a stop at a patterned mosaic piece, that glowed dimly in her presence.

"A calling card," she spat, picking up the fractured pieces. The Kalesei emitted pale blue lights from the archaic designs, serving as a reminder that she was now the property of some stupid hormonal male.

Her ears pricked up and she whisked herself out of the way as a brick landed where she'd just been crouching moments before. The orange-haired boy wore a fierce expression on his face and he twisted his hands around a dagger that he'd picked up from the witches body. Rukia snarled as she watched him try to come up against her. He had no hope at all of defeating her. She lived through far too many battles for her taste. He sliced the air in front of her, attempting to slash her skin. She dodged each attack with the complete ease and grace that she was born into, twisting her legs around his and slamming him down onto the ground.

The teen attempted to fight her off as she straddled his hips, until she pinned both hands above his head, her own hand grasped around his throat.

"Move again," she snarled, bearing her canines down and laying her ears back. "I'm pissed off enough as it is, so go ahead boy - make. A. Move."

The boy stilled, keeping his eyes on her sharpened teeth. Rukia gripped the hand with the marking and held it up in front of his face. "See this?" She snapped, jerking his hand with surprising force. "Cover it up, disguise it, find something to keep people from seeing it."

"Why?" He replied daringly. This boy was beginning to test her boundaries again.

"Because more of those-" she jerked back towards the corpses behind her, "- will come after you from now on. You've just earned yourself a bloody Familiar, a powerful one at that, and now you've just painted a big red target on your ass by setting off my kalesei."

She leapt off him and swept her hand over the witches body. His corpse began to freeze over till it seemed to be made out of glass, before she clenched her fist tight. The corpse shattered into a million fractures, spilling about into the surrounding area.

The hybrid looked down on the boy who was still in his position, his eyes fixated on her with weary and . . . curiosity?

What a strange mortal? "Either way, I saved your ass so you owe me." She said pointedly. "And if you want to survive, then do what I say."

With that, she flew up into the air, leaving behind her signature trail of wind and snow high above the clouds.