In the midst of the night; gunshots were heard.
Through the streets ran a male seemingly to be nineteen years of age, as he was being chased by what it seems to be a gruesome creature that was made of blood and living tissue. As he ran for what it seemed to be his life, the creature began to advanced onto him; and not too far behind him were rotting flesh that were normally called human beings. Instead these human beings seemed to have undergone a virus that led them ro have their flesh rot and their bodyparts dismembered. He ran away from them, leaping over crashed cars and trash; anything that was in his way.
He had shaggy silky ravens black hair and large elmerald green eyes. He wore nothing but a white labcoat which was splattered with fresh and dry crimson liquid as he had killed many of those creatures back inside of the building he was born in. He had to escape from here, because when he had woke up; things started to happen.
As he had ran, he knew there was no human life there that existed. Because there was no life he knew something was very very wrong. The way the trash was scattered everywhere, buildings were on fire, and blood almost stained on every building that he could see. Bloody hand prints and the such. He knew he had awoken in a nightmare that had begun because of him.
He grunted as he could see the long outstretched tongue coming towards him, and he took the black magnum that was in his left hand and shot at the fleshy organ. The sound of the bullet went through the tongue, and blood erupted from it, and the creature behind him let out a pained screech. Quickly turning as fast as he could; he used his magnums to shoot at the fleshy creature before he turned back and continued on. He gasped as he noticed something else with such dread. It seemed that his gunshots were attracting more and more undead creatures, and he didn't know what to do.
His face was slightly pink from exhaustion, but he knew he could go on. It just that he didn't like waking up in a world where this was all that mattered. Undead and ambominations of creatures that defied nature. Then again, was he an ambomination? He had woken up in a genetic lab, and saw the things they had injected into him.
He saw his files. The files of the seven demons. Everyone of them having a purpose within him. But nothing about why he had this inside of him.
He used a skill that he didn't know the name of; which he quickly vanished from his spot and reappeared behind the mass of undead coming towards him. When he did, this confused the slow creatures and he started to run again; not minding the glass digging into his bony feet. For some reason, he knew he wans't human anyway. Who would have such snow-white skin and look deadly and gorgeous? Of course, he never thought he was gorgeous, and he knew that he seemed to be the sad type because of those teal tear tracks running down from his eyes to his jawline.
Noticing the creature was breaking through the crowds of undead, he began to run faster; which was inhuman speed. He couldn't stop running. He didn't want to stop. He had to get out of here. This place. This horrible, horrible place. If he only knew who he was. If he knew where he was.
Your name... My name... Our name...
The voices whispered inside of his head, and he shuddered, not knowing where they came from. Was he hallucinating? But as the voices kept whispering in his head, he knew he wasn't. But right now, he had to get out of here. This place. Whatever this place was-
Racoon City... Go to... Karakura Town...
So this place was Racoon City. It sounded familiar. But he didn't have anymore time to think as he could see that more of them; Hell-Hounds were now running out for him. My goodness, all the creatures! With that he sprinted as fast as he can, making himself like a blur throughout the streets. To the human eye, he would have appeared too fast; but his vision was just fine. He was seeing everything in slow motion.
Find.... Grimmjow... He's around... Here.
He knitted his eyebrows at this, and he didn't know who Grimmjow was. But he didn't have time to ponder this as he gasped, seeing that another one of those blood and flesh creatures appeared from the buildings ahead of him; breaking through the glass. He could watch as the glass shattered and fall to the concrete ground, their sounds banging against his sensitive ears.
Your name, our name....
He had to remember his name. If he remembered, would it stop this nightmare? Would it? Would it?
What was his name...?
He let his breath hitch as he took his two magnums and shot at the creatures as he spun his body in the air, too fast for them to see him. He let his feet land on a brick wall of a building, and he bended his knees. Ignoring the fabric of the labcoat, he then sprung himself across to the otherside, where another building stood. He crashed through the window, ignoring the scrapes the shattered glass that cut his snow-white skin. He also ignored the ribbons of crimson that decorated his beautiful skin.
Remember your name... Our name...
As he landed on his feet, which he winced for the first time as the glass dug deep into his foot. It even went past the bone. Grunting, he placed a hand against a wall, and he used one of his hands to swiftly pull out the shattered glass and toss them onto the carpted floors. He could tell, after pulling them out, that his bones began to heal themselves. So it confirmed that he wasn't indeed human.
The name....
He couldn't stop now. He couldn't remember his name. But all he had to know was that there was a gothic black four on his left bicep....
Who was he?
As he covered himself with his labcoat, the male closed his elmerald eyes, taking a moments reprive. Oh how he would love to lay down and rest, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. With that he shuddered as he could feel them come ever closer to the building. For some reason, a strange sensation ran through his body, and he doubled over in pain; nearly choking. What was this pain?! As he held his stomach, he could feel something run underneath his skin and his elmerald eyes widened at this. What, what, what?!
There was... Something roaming inside of him?!
Icy terror gripped him, but he looked up as he heard snarling behind him, where the window was. Just as he could turn his head, everything went in slow motion. As he was turning his head, the fleshy beast (also known as Licker as it clicked in his mind), lunged towards him, its claws extended to swipe at him. But he had turned his head too slow and the claw scraped against the right side of his face, taking most of the skin off. He allowed a screech to exit his black and white lips as the pain took over him.
The Licker skidded across the carpeted floors, sending blood trails as it had a peice of his snow-white skin in its mouth. He stared at it, as the right side of his face was entirely muscle tissues and nerves, and he felt something pound inside of him. But everything went too quickly now.
After the Licker devoured his skin, it lashed it's long tongue at him, and he let out an enraged strangled cry as he took his two magnums and began to shoot at the damned creature. One was shooting at the incoming tongue and the other was shooting at the beasts blasted head. His instincts, ran pure in his mind.
Kill, kill, kill!
In a matter of moments, the creature was dead, and it rolled onto it's back, flailing helplessly as it dissappated in the air. He watched this scene, lowering his magnums, and he was trying to calm himself down. No doubt that his gunshots would have attracted attention to the undead outside or... Inside of this building. Realizing this, he felt a panic rising inside of him, as he strained to listen to any foreign noise besides his breathing. Instinctively as well, he raised a hand to the right side of his face; surprised to feel smooth skin. His elmerald eyes widened, and he ran his fingertips over the skin, wondering when it had grown back. Hadn't it been torn off?
Then he gasped as he heard shuffling noises beneath him, and he stopped his breathing, listening. His body was tense, and he checked his ammo. Good, he had enough. Besides... He needed clothes... Wearing a labcoat made him feel too womanly.
He took quiet steps towards the door, and he placed a hand on the knob. The male shuddered, and he knew that there were more of those terrors in this building. They were everywhere. Slowly turning the knob, he opened the door, and swung his magnum out in front of him in a second, just in case-
And there was no one. Did he believe in luck? Hard to tell. He had never went through this nightmare before. With that he kept his magnum up, and was waiting just in case some were to attack him from behind. He took a step out of the room, and looked side to side. The hallways were empty... But bloody. The metallic scent hit him hard, and he almost vomitted.
----
A feral grin formed on the blue heads tanned lips as he cracked another neck of those undead bastards. He looked around him, feeling pleased that he had killed nearly an entire population in this city; where he was considered dinner to these undead shit-heads. Tossing the disgusting peice of crap aside, he then looked around him, wondering where the hell he was. No, he wasn't in Racoon City, but somewhere near to the point.
Okay, he wasn't. He was near a place called Karakura Town. He wondered, just for a brief moment; if that strawberry shinigami was having the same trouble as he was. Probably was. Figures. These undead shit ain't something to wake up to.
This man was very muscular, as if the leather black jacket rhar covered his upperbody didn't define it well enough. He had a white shirt underneath that was loose, so it didn't suffocate him on his movements (honestly, those women had enough tight shirts to show off their tits). He had blue jeans on, and accented blue tennis shoes. He didn't care for the brand name at the moment, as he thrusted his AK 47 into the strap on his back.
Oh yeah, waking up in his room with an undead bitch isn't going to work out so well. Blasted that motherfucking bitches head off.
He stepped away from the pile, and checked to see if his sword, Pantera; was still in it's sheath. Yep. Good girl. He headed for his motorcycle (the one he could find was a Harley Davidson), and swung his leg over it, settling himself on the seat. As he started the engine and revving it a few times, he grinned, not taking a look back at the undead.
That's right, this place was cleaned.
He then zoomed through the streets, laughing; his voice echoing the empty city as he headed to another one.
Oh hell, this was the most fun he had ever had when he was an Espada.