Chapter 1

If you prick us do we not bleed? If you poison us do we not die?

Midori Takahashi only dreamed of blood, and cries, and the vast white sands.

Step by step she walked with her feet, aching from the grains of snowy sand she stood upon. The air stood still and bitter, the gray sky arching over her head as a soft yet strangling blanket.

"You will suffer," a voice whispered, a dark gentleness clinging to it. "You will wander endlessly, waiting for the love and care that will cease to exist. You will beg, you will plead, and you will cry…"

The scene stretched before her, appending to the white hell before her. It left her situated there, waiting in the dead silence that would soon suffocate her. It would leave her there in a dark abyss, the darkness creeping over her skin as her mind drifted away, her heart slowing to a small and whispered tap.

Soon, she would not be able to fight back.

Her voice was weak compared to the intensity of this, her body becoming nothing more than that of a soulless creature that was forgotten in a cold world, left to roam in enmity.

Words rang in the air, chanting itself into her mind.

"And no one will ever hear."

Tear, chew, and swallow.

It seemed easier to say than rather do, but for some Menos, it came effortlessly to them as breathing did.

And it did for a certain panther Adjuchas.

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques hungrily swallowed the piece of meat that he had torn from the unmoving hollow laying in front of him. Snarling, he turned from the hollow abandoning it to find another prey.

Hopefully, it would be tastier than that one.

Cerulean eyes scanned the white sand dunes of Hueco Mundo, seeing no sign of another hollow. Grimmjow growled lowly, frustrated at the sight.

In front of him, white. Behind him, white. Next to him…black?

Snapping his head to the side, he sprinted, white sand flying. His body churned with adrenaline, his eyes burning with hunger. Maybe this time-

Grimmjow was thrown backwards, his body rolling in the sand. Placing his feet firmly on the ground, he skidded to a halt, his eyes gazing upwards to glare at the figure.

So this was his former prey, was it?

A slender black wolf stood before him, a fitting black armor enveloping its body. The armor stopped just above its paws, white fur extending out to cover the remaining surface. A white tail and ears jutted out of the black armor.

Amber, almost golden eyes stared into his own, an unreadable expression fixated in them. From what he concluded, Grimmjow saw the wolf as a female.

Grimmjow snapped his jaws precariously, watching in distaste as he saw neither any fear in her eyes or her body flinch. Come to see, her eyes held no emotion at all, they were just hard. There was no anger, or coldness that most hollow's preferred to do when meeting with him. Instead, her eyes held a longing feeling, where it seemed to ache and stretch as long as the sand dunes itself.

Taking a step forward, he detected no movement from the wolf. Growling, Grimmjow snapped his jaws again, growing agitated.

The wolf closed her eyes, dipping its head downwards, which seemed similar to that of an apology. Lifting her head back up, he was a bit taken back at the sincerity that appeared in her eyes. For a moment, he thought he had pictured that of a slender woman in place of the wolf.

Turning her back on Grimmjow, the wolf walked away, not bothering to break into a sprint though she knew Grimmjow could attack it any second. She knew that her level was nothing to that of his, as he was obviously stronger from the look of fury in his eyes.

He snarled and growled, but let her walk on by nonetheless. However, Grimmjow was aware that the female wolf was an Adjuchas Menos, a fellow kin. A thought came to him, to which he took note of. If he were to kill her now, he would probably become stronger and wouldn't have to eat for the rest of the day. But something withheld him from doing so, leaving his eyes only to picture what could have happened.

His anger soon departed though, leaving him interested in what capabilities the wolf held, as he wondered what kind of challenge she would have given if put up to a fight. He sneered at the idea, sparring with a woman. It would be degrading to him. Why should someone as powerful as him worry about the strength of a woman when he knew he could easily finish her off.

Grimmjow snapped his jaw one last time at the fading form, and apart from the last thought that ran through his head, let the matter slip away.

One more to get rid of.

And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?

A/N: Please Review! I would love to hear what you think.