Disclaimer – I don't own Bleach. This was written for the fifteenth Fanfic Friday Contest where the goal was to create a creepy story for Halloween using 6000 words or less.
Child's Drawing
Two eyes the color of dark ice stared at the stark white pages of the sketch pad transformed under the guidance of a small, bone thin hand into a dark abyss. Circles of white remained in the darkness as the dark medium swept across the page with fervor. The bone thin hand then crammed the pastel stick down twice to mar each iridescent moon with two dark circles. A sweeping motion created a dark, creepy smile for the man in the moon, and a black tear drop appeared from one of the eyes.
Isane watched the white haired youth reach out his bone thin hands now stained black by the pastels for the color of a deep, dark ocean, but her eyes saw not the swirling, cavorting mark left on almost every man in the moon. The darkened bone thin hand reached out again for a red like the fires of hell and placed a mark on the remaining man in the moon. The fukutaicho of the forth division cleared her voice. "Hitsugaya Taicho? May I see what you've drawn?"
The two eyes the color of dark ice shot up to glare at her. "No."
"Then can we at least talk about what happened?"
"No. I already told you I don't want to talk about what happened during the war with the Quincy." The young captain snapped the sketchpad shut. "Can I go now?"
Isane took in a deep breath and felt the cold chill in the air of the room slide across her tongue. "I'd appreciate it if you answered at least one of my questions."
"I didn't agree to this. Plus you also said I needed something constructive, so that's what I'm doing. Can I go?"
Isane looked down at the small clock she kept facing herself and her eyes closed shut from frustration. "Time for your session's run out. I do expect you to be here for your next session."
"What ever." The young taicho rolled his eyes before standing up to leave the room. His blackened bone thin hand reached out to slide the door open only for his body to tense up upon seeing the creature on the other side. An involuntary shudder ran down his spine and an audible grimace escaped his thin lips.
"Hello Shiro-chan!" The creature's high pitched voice and use of the undesirable nickname created another sharp shudder down the spine.
Toshiro licked his lips nervously, and one of his blackened hands pulled the sketchpad closer to his chest. "Hinamori. What do you want?"
"I wanted to know how your counseling session went."
"I don't see the point."
"Everybody's required to take counseling sessions Shiro-chan." The creature's high pitched voice forced the young taicho's jaw to grind and yet another sharp shiver to run down his spine.
"You're not."
"Nothing really bad happened."
Toshiro turned letting his tongue click anxiously against the roof of his mouth. "Nothing bad? People we know and cared about died! Stupid bed wetter Momo!"
"Don't call me that!" The creatures body tensed up indicating likewise animosity.
"Don't call me Shiro-chan!" The body of the young captain froze as thoughts turned to his behavior.
"Can I see your pictures?" The creatures brown eyes pooled and sparkled in a manner begging for the sketchpad in his blackened hand, and the creatures lips remained soft and innocent. A delicate hand pale and clean reached out for the wanted sketchpad. "Come on. They're pretty."
Instinctively Toshiro pulled back from the infringing purity, and his eyes the color of dark ice widened in horror. The roof of his mouth itched from the panic setting in, but his blackened hand couldn't latch onto the blackness of his drawing as the offending pure hand reached out to grab the notebook. A sound escaped his lips like a kitten calling for it's missing mother, and his darkened hands lacked the strength or ambition to reach out to take the book.
The creatures brown eyes pooled with confusion as they looked at the pages, and the creatures thin lips turned upside down. The creatures delicate hands stopped turning the pages. "Shiro-chan..."
Toshiro's mouth opened, but the lecture regarding the use of the sickening nickname refused to escape the jail cell of his mouth. The blackened bone thin hand finally reached out to grab the sketchpad. "None of your business Hinamori. None at all. It's simply what I feel like drawing recently."
"It's all black, not white."
"I don't like white anymore." Two eyes the color of dark ice darted down to the floor.
"Why not? Your hair is white."
"White is pure. I don't feel pure. There's to much white around."
…
"White is pure, I am not." Toshiro stared at the white wall in front of himself as his bone thin hands now clean of the blackened pastel held onto the paint buckets. A shudder ran down his spine as he remembered the impurity of becoming a zombie during the war, and how his skin crawled with the negative vibes. "Not even the fact Kurotsuchi changed me back – that didn't remove the impurities."
A sharp, icy voice spoke up at the back of his mind. "I don't think this is a good idea."
"I feel like I need to do this." Two eyes the color of dark ice looked down at the white skin of the bone thin hands. "To pure. To white."
Toshiro set the paint buckets down next to another set by the white wall and stooped down so his small frame hunched over the cans. The cold metal of the paint can opener felt good against the tips of his finger reflecting how he felt towards the outside world, and the sound of metal tearing – no, grinding – sounded like a cacophonous music to his ears. The music though didn't drown out the cacophony of the sharp, icy voice in the back of his head, but the sight of the pitch black tar in the pail in a nice neat circle dragged him into an abyss of blissfulness. The bone thin hand reached down to grab a paint brush, but stopped short. The bone thin fingers dipped down into the black abyss of paint, and then the whole bone thin hand became covered in the beautiful blackness. The hands reached out to mar the whiteness of the wall, creating a blackness covered in moons as far as he could reach.
With the ability of the Shinigami to step on the air the reach was pretty far.
A pressing of the fist to the moons created the eyes, and two fingers created the man in the moons creepy smile and the tarry tear dripping down from the eye. The bone thin hand now covered in darkness reached down to open up another can of pain, and took a paint brush to stroke across the forehead a blue swirl ending in cacophony on many of the man in the moons, and with another opening of a can and another brush red marks appeared on the remaining faces of the man in the moon.
The young taicho stood back looking at the cacophonous mess and the gratingly sharp, icy voice in the back of his head asked a question in a rather annoyed manner. "Do you feel better?"
"Right now, yes." The small bone thin figure closed the remaining paint cans and listened to the eerie clinking sound of the metal cans. The thin figure slipped away without any one noticing the disaster on the wall, or the figure leaving the disastrous mess behind.
…
"Are you sure you don't want to stay longer?"
The young female Shinigami tugged at the black sleeves of her uniform she received for graduating the academy and entering one of the thirteen divisions. A chill permeated the night air, and the uniform seemed thin. Her breath came out in a thin mist. "I need to be getting back to my division. I've got early morning duties."
The young woman slipped out from the glowing light of the building into the dark night lit by no moon, and the glow of safe security left as the door slid shut with a resounding click making the young Shinigami nearly stumble into the containers on the opposite side of the street. A cold shudder ran down her spine as she stepped away from the doorway, and her eyes peered down the dark corridors.
The need to traverse the dark yawning in front of her won out, and the sandals on her feet clicked as she stepped forward. Her shoulders tensed at the thought of someone following her with each step echoing her own so she couldn't hear a misstep. She paused outside a small alleyway and peered down an even darker yawning and wondered if she should traverse the shortcut. Her breath pulled short as she stared, and finally a small sliver of courage lit her attitude and she stepped down the corridor hoping to arrive at her division sooner.
She stepped through a couple of steps, and then came in deep.
A rattling sound like a wooden instrument started up, and the young female Shinigami froze in her steps. Her breath stopped as the noise continued, and a thought pierced through the fear clouding her mind making the fear grow worse. "Don't turn around. Don't turn around. Don't..."
The young woman turned then and let out a scream.
…
Nanao's thin, delicate finger tapped on the top of the desk as she looked over the paper work. The female fukutaicho of the first division read over each report again trying to take in the information.
"Young female Shinigami reported seeing a creature with a white mask, and black spindly legs." Another report read, "A young man reported seeing a creature with long black fingers and a white mask with a weird blue mark."
The fukutaicho of the sixth division submitted a report as well. "The sixth seat of the seventh division says she saw a moon faced person with eyes as black as tar with a fire mark on their face. Another couple of unseated officers said they saw the same moon faced persons, but with a blue mark. They mentioned nothing of the tar like eyes, but said something about long fingers. Not sure what to think."
The woman let out a deep sigh before standing up. "Most of the incidents take place around the sixth division so that's where I should start my search around that area."
The fukutaicho traveled around the area stopping various people to ask questions. She noticed a few young Shinigami near one of the attacks gossiping. The female fukutaicho of the first stepped over and pushed up her glasses. "What are you doing loitering around? Do you know anything about the attack which occurred recently?" The young Shinigami cowered under her glance and one of the young Shinigami took off running. Nanao grabbed the other two by the back of their uniform. "Talk."
The look of fear in their eyes as they looked up at her told her they were either hiding something, or they were afraid of something. Two eyes darted away. "The story... the story goes there is a painting on the wall that comes alive. The painting was put their by a murder victim."
"No, the paintings were put there by a mad painter who committed suicide after killing a bunch of kids."
"What paintings?"
"We don't know. Never seen them, but they're supposed to be here somewhere close by. Some say they move."
A sigh escaped Nanao's lips as she let the other two young Shinigami go. She pushed her glasses up in frustration. "What nonsense. I still have to check this rumor out."
The female lieutenant moved around the area looking for any signs of these paintings which moved. She found herself almost about to give up when she caught sight of something which caused her eyes to widen, and her shoulders to tense up. Her mouth pushed together as her mind tried explaining what she saw.
…
"It certainly isn't a monster."
"It's not?" The head taicho leaned back in his chair in a lazy manner. "Are you certain?"
"No. There are these weird paintings on the wall. I think those claiming to be attacked saw the paintings late at night and thought they were being attacked. I think this is being escalated by stories people are passing around regarding the paintings. I think the escalations also occurring because someone is painting more and more of these paintings on the wall. They're rather horrid."
"They're this creature? That everyone is seeing?"
"Sort of. They're... these paintings are these round faces with marks on them. The marks..." Nanao took a deep breath. "They're the water and fire symbols of the Shiba clan."
Kyoraku's eyes widened. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"I don't know. Captain Shiba disappeared over twenty years ago and Hitsugaya Taicho took over. Shiba Kaien and his wife died around the same time." The woman's fingers pressed into the clipboard as her lips pressed together. "This is honestly a disturbing situation as I don't know who would paint those creepy things."
"Would you like permission for you to have the higher ups in the Shinigami to keep an eye out?"
"Yes."
…
Izuru's pale eyes took in the dark abyss created on the wall just outside of his captain's quarters. His own captain looked at the messy blackness and the moon faces. "I don't know how anyone could sneak into this area unnoticed, or why anyone would have anything against myself."
The fukutaicho of the third let out a sigh. "You got turned into a zombie. That's honestly rather creepy and may in some people's eyes make you seem more creepy then our previous taicho."
Rose stopped rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not a zombie anymore though..."
"Not a zombie, yes. That doesn't mean the men aren't thinking that." Kira reached out to touch the yawning white marks marring the black abyss. "Previous reports though didn't say anything about claw marks, nor did they mention there being any kind of rieatsu left behind. There's something familiar with it."
"Kira-kun!" A soft voice came from off to the side.
The young, blond fukutaicho turned his head to see the smaller fukutaicho of the fifth. "Hinamori. How are you..." Izuru's words stopped short when he saw the color leave Momo's face, and her eyes widen with horror. "Momo, is something the matter?"
"I... I've seen this before."
"You mean you've been attacked by one of these things as well?" The taicho of the third looked up.
"No." Momo swallowed. "I've seen these pictures in Shiro-chan's sketchpad. There are pages of these things, and that's all there is."
Rose turned his head and rubbed the back of his heck again. "Captain Hitsugaya? What does he have against me? And what about the Shiba clan?"
Izuru let out a sigh. "He was rather attached to Shiba Taicho and Kaien-dono, but from what I've heard never dealt with their deaths. I also think this has to do with the previous captain. Ichimaru did after all have a connection to Hitsugaya Taicho's fukutaicho. Maybe he felt that Ichimaru abandoned her like he feels Shiba Taicho and Kaien-dono abandoned him?"
"But Shiro-chan... he'd never do anything like this. He's..." Momo's voice quaked.
Rose looked up at the black abyss before letting out a sigh. "I'll speak to Isane then."
…
"My taicho would never do such a thing." Rangiku glared at the fukutaicho of the forth division. "Why are you even suggesting such a thing Isane?"
"Hinamori noted these paintings on the wall looked a lot like something Hitsugaya Taicho's been drawing in his sketchpad. He's pretty much the only person whose got connections to both the previous third division captain and the Shiba clan."
"I have connections. Nanao and the head captain do. So does Ukitake. Isane..."
"They're something you're taicho created from his imagination. Plus, where is he?"
"Taicho keeps to himself. You know that."
"Where is he?"
"He's in the captain quarters right now resting. Things have been stressful since the war with the Quincy ended." Rangiku took a deep breath as the woman turned to leave. "Wait! Where are you going?"
"To see your captain to see if he knows anything about this."
Rangiku started after the other fukutaicho. "You'll find this has nothing to do with him."
Something though kept eating away deep down, and a deep, dark abyss formed in her gut created by her anxieties. The two arrived at the room and Isane knocked on the door. When no answer came the fukutaicho of the forth slid the door open, and the two stared into the black abyss of the room. Rangiku felt her throat tighten at what she saw.
The once white walls were painted black with moon faces peering out in all directions almost in a mocking manner. The few bookshelves were turned towards the wall, and the bed pulled away from the wall. Her small taicho sat in the middle of the bed with his knees pulled up to his chest, and his white head of hair buried in his arms. His bone thin body seemed pale in the light – the exception being the hands covered in black paint. Cans of paint were in various parts of the room while the young taicho's haori lay folded on the bed.
"Taicho?" No response came from the young taicho and Rangiku stepped over and nudged the boy so he was forced to look up at her. For a moment she thought his face would be replaced by one of the moon masks, but a sigh of relief came when her fears were mute. "What is this?"
"What is what?"
"This mess?"
"Impurity."
"Taicho..." Rangiku ran her teeth over her bottom lip.
"White is pure. I'm not."
"White... your hair is white. Your captain's haori is white."
"I don't deserve the position."
Rangiku sat down next to her small taicho and looked up at Isane. The look on her face said everything. "Now what?"
…
Kyoraku let out a sigh as he looked at the paper. "So the attacks haven't stopped since Hitsugaya Taicho's been locked up in the forth under Isane's supervision?"
Nanao shook her head. "The paintings also keep increasing. There are now white slashes across them as if something were trying to get out. I think someone saw what Hitsugaya Taicho did and decided to replicate it as it's stiring up quite a bit of fear, this rumor is."
"Are you sure that's it? Are you sure that this isn't the young taicho's emotional frustrations finally bubbling over and physically manifesting themselves?"
"How is that even possible?" Nanao shook her head. "The urban myth's certainly changed since the news that Hitsugaya Taicho was somehow involved."
"How so?"
"Well... I'm not sure how to put it. They're just stories, these urban myths."
"So there is nothing to this whole rumor going around that Hitsugaya Taicho's to blame for what's going on?"
"Not when these rumors include him committing suicide, or committing mass murder! How cruel can they get! The only one remotely close to the truth is the rumor regarding the fact a child taicho one day lost it, but said rumor sounds more like Ichimaru Gin!" Nanao let out a sigh. "This isn't fair to him."
"I was talking about the rumor that these creatures showing up are tied to him. Not so much the urban myth springing up around them. Even if we do manage to do something about this I don't think the urban myths floating around are going to go away."
"Again! How is this fair to him!"
"How about you speak to our resident scientist to figure out a solution?"
"Kurotsuchi wasn't able to find out anything!"
Kyoraku sighed. "So you mean to say we've got a problem with no solution?"
"I still think someone's just escalating the problem. It will go away once we catch the culprit."
"I don't think the problem will go away until Hitsugaya Taicho's mental and emotional problems are dealt with."
"Don't tell me you believe these rumors! You're the head taicho!"
"I don't believe the parts about him committing suicide or being a mass murder, but that it has ties to Hitsugaya Taicho. I do believe that."
"But he's locked up? How?"
"How? That's a good question."
…
The room was stark white.
The room screamed of purity.
The clothing he wore was stark white, the under part of the Shinigami's uniform.
The clothing screamed of purity.
Toshiro buried his head into his arms so his eyes the color of dark ice couldn't see the purity around him, and feeling of nausea subsided. The door to the room remained locked as he sat on the floor of the padded room wondering when Matsumoto Rangiku would come and get him.
"I can help you."
The young taicho's head darted up, and his eyes the color of dark ice blinked a couple of times. A figure dressed in black wrappings sat in front of him. Beads the color of dark ice adorned the outfit, and the creature wore a moon like mask with a marking the color of dark ice. An eerie icy feeling came over him, but at the same time the creepy feeling the being gave off felt comforting. "Who are you?"
"Maru-chan."
Toshiro examined the mask carefully and saw under the right hole of the mask was an eye the color of dark ice. Under the left was a dark hole with a deep abyss drilling into the young taicho's mind and the emotional black pain he felt. Two monstrous ears made of ice stuck out on either side. The young taicho blinked a couple of times. "You're a hollow. Why would you help me?"
A hand wrapped in black reached out to ruffle his white hair, and Toshiro felt bone thin fingers. "You are me, and I am you."
"What's that supposed to mean? And who are you?"
"You know who I am."
The young taicho sighed and closed his eyes. His head buried yet again into his arms. He heard the door to the room open, and then the sound of a trey of food hitting the ground. He lifted his head up, and his dark ice teal eyes blinked a couple of times. All around him was the welcoming black abyss with the familiar white moon faces. "Freedom. Freedom from purity."
…
Note - What should I write for the Fanfic Fright Day contest? A lot of ideas tumbled around my head regarding what I should write. I got to thinking about how I like Creepy Pasta, or urban myths. I also liked reading about how these urban myths got started. Some of these stories about how the myths got started are real origin stories, but other times the way they get started are myths themselves. I then asked myself, "What would an urban myth look like in one of the fandoms I write for? How would this myth find itself created? What parts were just rumor, and what parts would be true?" Thus the idea for Child's Drawing was born. Creepy children are also creepy, so thus the focus on the child genius of the Gotei Thirteen.
For those who don't know the fandom the Gotei Thirteen is broken up into thirteen units. Each unit has a captain or taicho, and a lieutenant or fukutaicho with seated officers underneath. The divisions are numbered one through thirteen, and the captain of the first division is also the head captain or head taicho. The forth division is in charge of healing, and the taicho of the tenth is the child genius. This takes place after everyone finished a major battle. Rieatsu is best described as an aura as well as a characters power level. A few captains during this battle including the taicho of the tenth were turned into a zombies – something another taicho found a cure for.