A lone figure stood before a line of his enemies. Though, at closer look, this figure was naught but a boy. Pressure filled the air as he grinned, driving the opposition to their knees. One by one his enemies fell until the last charged unexpectedly. The boy was rent from shoulder to hip, crimson staining the ground below the color of death. His eyes were conquered by the pain, no longer a warm brown tone, but cloudy amber. He let out a weak whimper (of protest, maybe?), and weakly lifted his head to stare at his enemy.
A psychotic grin spilt his visage as his eyes inverted, irises bleeding gold. He chuckled, a disturbing sound, and rose to his feet. With a flourish, he charged head on at the other.
What was the last thought to stain his opponent's eyes dark, you ask?
"Damn you, Aizen Sousuke."
AN: The start of a long series of drabbles. Long because there are way too many fun characters in Bleach.
I don't own Bleach. But I do have a wallscroll, Grimmjow plushie, and like half of the whole series in my bookcase.