A/N: I guess this is an experiment of some sort. It's an idea that has been with me for about the last week and I just had to write it. Chapters will most likely be coming out slower because apart from the general outline, there are no plans. :/ This is the most worst "language"-wise the chapter's will be (but swear words are much cooler when in a different language). Translations at the bottom, enjoy! x
Dalikamata's Destitute - 1
"Perra!"
Boredom, it was an emotion he felt almost constantly, the only one that had any place inside him. The shouting from his rude and lecherous younger brother could be heard throughout the hallways of the fifth floor of the castle. All his siblings were located on this floor. It was the floor below his father's quarters, Lord Aizen, as the man preferred to be called. They had all been adopted, one after the other, several years ago. The youngest was Yammy, a beefy dark skinned teenager, who was always found following him. That was if Ulquiorra ever left his bedroom, which was rarely and only for walks or obtaining his quota.
"Gato!"
He was sitting at the barred window, looking out at the vast landscape. The nearest town could just be seen before the horizon and he saw tiny movements along the road coming towards the castle. Horses and carriages made their way onwards to their destination, where a grand masquerade was about to happen. In a few hours after the sun has set, it will be Noche de los Muertos, Night of the Dead. The celebration will be held till morning light because the town's folk still feared any dangers of the darkness and rightly so.
"Puta!"
A dejected sigh left his lips and Ulquiorra went over to his closet. He was still in a tunic and cotton pants, not wanting to get dressed up for such an event. He didn't bother with any colourful clothing. It didn't suit him or his personality. It was bad enough he looked like a fool in these clothes without having to draw attention to himself with vibrant colours. The last accessory was a white mask, covering his whole face. There were horn-like ears poking out of the sides. The only thing stopping it from being bland were the green tears stains running down both the cheeks, matching the colour of his eyes.
"Joder! Bicho!"
A slammed door could be felt as the full length mirror he looked into shook, wobbling the reflection Ulquiorra saw of himself. He made his way down to the entrance of the castle, to greet all the arriving guests. It shouldn't be called a greeting because he would just stand there, immobile. He didn't care to know who was coming in, they were just numbers. These numbers adored his father, would do anything for his father. They didn't know what his father was truly like, what his father truly thought about them.
Rojo.
It flashed passed him, bringing him out of his thoughts. He looked back to try and find it, but if it did exist, it was lost in the crowds of numbers. It was most likely his imagination, he thought it was strange but it left his mind. Ulquiorra felt someone grab his arm, pulling him inside to where the masquerade was being held. Looking over he saw pink eyes behind a half-mask, her black hair which was normally held up in pig-tails was let out, flowing down her back. Loly, most known for her fixation with his father.
"What are you doing?" He asked as she placed one of his hands on her waist, holding the other in her hand.
"We're dancing." She moved them around the dance floor and he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "How is Lord Aizen?"
He could see her eyes flicker to his father, narrowing with jealousy at the horde of women that surrounded him. They were all looking at the most wanted bachelor with baited breathe as he told another of his outrageous stories. There were two masks Lord Aizen wore right now to conceal himself. One was part of his costume and the other was invisible. It was both masks that the people of the town couldn't see behind tonight. They didn't know how treacherous his father really was and if they found out, he was sure there would be nothing they could do about it. No one would find out though.
"Go ask him yourself."
"I hear you're his most favoured out of all the children." Her eyes fluttered towards his and he noticed her smile grow. "You were always one to stand out in a crowd."
"I'm not going to be used in your ploy to get closer to my father." He pushed her away from him scoffing, causing a disturbance to those dancing around them. "Don't flatter yourself, only a gusano would look twice at you."
She slapped him, loud and hard, before rushing out of the room. He felt nothing. It was a reaction he was expecting, so he had braced himself for it. He could have dodged her hand, grabbed onto her throat and squeeze it until she lost all circulation of air. He wasn't a fool. It would be idiotic for him to do so around the many in the vicinity. He took note of the dryness in his throat as he swallowed. He was thirsty and also in much need of an alcoholic beverage. Nothing this castle served was going to be strong enough so he made his way to his brother's room, the one with signature bright blue hair.
Rojo.
He saw it in the corner of his eye and instead of going pass him, it bumped straight into him. Before he could stop they had collided, the drink she had been holding went all over his front. Luckily he was wearing black or else the red wine would've marked his clothing. The glass shattered as it made contact with the stone floor, not loud enough to be heard over the music that was being played by a group of talented men.
"Pathetic." Ulquiorra muttered under his breath.
"You came out of nowhere, I didn't sense you!" The mysterious redhead exclaimed. It took her a few tries of reaching out before she got a hold of his shoulder.
Already drunk. It disgusted him that someone as young as her, she looked like she was just finishing her teen years, would turn up just to drink away the night. He had forgotten the reason he left the dance floor to begin with, which was to go do the same thing.
She started touching his chest feeling at the wet patch. "Oh no, I'm so sorry. Here, let me go get something to help clean you up."
He swatted her hands from him, not liking the way she touched him so carelessly. "Don't bother." She stumbled before him and was about to fall to the ground, but he caught her. "Mierda! You're drunk, watch where you're going."
"I'm not drunk." He heard her giggle in response, despite the harsh tone he used towards her.
Ulquiorra figured she was lying, why else would she respond to him in such a way and her movements were sluggish. He found a bench for her to sit on and walked away, having no intention of going back and checking on her. She was old enough to look after herself and she wasn't his problem. He made his was up a staircase which lead to the upper floors as well as a balcony that overlooked the dance floor. He turned towards the balcony, choosing not to go further upstairs, not yet.
The woman with red hair wasn't on the bench where he left her and she wasn't anywhere in the dancing crowds either. Stupid woman. Didn't she realise it was dangerous to go wandering around the castle by herself? He wasn't look out for her wellbeing, he didn't care. Whatever happened to her would be her own fault. He just thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. The eyes he trusted to show him everything, whatever he couldn't see just didn't exist. It was the only reason he was looking for her.
She was in a black long dress with long sleeves and large cuffs which were elaborately trimmed. Her corset underneath had been showing just a reasonable amount of décolletage, unlike the other female guests who thought it necessary to show off too much. Her mask covered only half her face, the only similarity she had with the ladies. It was black, matching her dress, but was lined with feathers and had a tiny beak-like nose. It wasn't the decorative design of the mask that made him want to have a second look. Her mask had no holes for where her eyes should've been looking at him. He was sure there had been red diamantes instead.
Dark arms rested next to his and he turned to see his older sister, spiky blonde hair atop her head. Her skeletal mask covered the lower part of her face. Something their father was against because it wasn't lady-like. She was the only one, out of their siblings, who openly rebelled against the paternal parent. It surprised him how she was rarely punished for such acts, of what he knew. It would be wrong of him to group her with all the other women, she was certainly not weak. Worthless however was just a matter of opinion.
"You look so glum Ulquiorra, even behind the mask."
"You would look gloomy too if you had a drink spilt on you." His gaze went back to the dancing couples, easily picking out the rest of his siblings, all apart from two.
"It's not like you have any other facial expressions." Tier sighed before moving away. "You should be glad for the occasion, or else you would end up scaring everyone away."
He didn't care. He preferred to be in isolation. Being around other people just hindered him from gaining freedom. They didn't mean anything to him. They were just a means to get to a goal, to get his quota. He looked down at his father who still had women flocking around him, as if any of that would change. Wealth and a lot of secret medicaments kept Lord Aizen looking youthful, almost as young as his oldest son Coyote. He was decades older, decades older than them all.
Turning away, he chose the next upwards path. His brother's room was only a couple of doors down from his bedroom. Ulquiorra could hear compromising noises but still entered it without announcing his presence beforehand. The sight he saw was expected, Grimmjow was on top of some woman with aqua hair, pants down at his ankles. Ever since his coming of age he had a different woman on his arm, and in his bed, monthly. He didn't understand Grimmjow's fascination with women, they were all weak and not worth any of his own time, even for simple pleasures.
"Che, haven't you heard of knocking?"
He ignored his brother, who continued with his actions as if the disturbance didn't happen. Instead Ulquiorra went straight to the closet where he hoped to find some heavy spirits hiding somewhere among the clothes within. Grimmjow grabbed the bottle from him having finished up with the woman and sending her away after she was decent enough to leave. She had resisted at first but reluctantly left after he promised another rendezvous with her.
"What's the occasion?" Grimmjow asked confused because they rarely ever conversed.
"Does there need to be one?" He countered.
His brother hummed in agreement taking a swig of the strong alcohol. Ulquiorra's mask was discarded, to take full advantage of the burning liquid which slowly numbed to nothing with each mouthful. They stayed in silence, left with their own thoughts, taking turns with the bottle. After finishing the bottle between them, all he felt was a slight dizziness when standing. It appalled him considering the amount it cost to import the beverage and it having little effect. It couldn't be helped. They were all monsters after all.
"Remind me to never drink with you again." Grimmjow commented. "This stuff is useless when shared."
"Who was the mujer?"
"Nelliel." They both put their masks back on, about to leave. "Uncle Kaname's new mistress."
He made a disgusted sound. "Better make sure he doesn't find out. He's already got a vendetta against you."
Grimmjow snorted. "See if I care."
Ulquiorra stood at the balcony once again, looking below at the groups of people talking and dancing, all identities made unknown by the masks they wore. Leaning against the rail, he stopped paying attention to what was happening, the colours becoming a blur. He hoped everyone would have sense not to bother him, even his father. He was brought out of his thoughts by the chiming of a bell signalling midnight. There were still many hours before the rays of the new day were to form.
Rojo.
It flitted across the dance floor. He saw the woman being led by Nnoitra away from everyone and most likely to somewhere secluded. He stiffened. Does she not a have good sense of character? Of course not, she was intoxicated. She was ripe for the taking because of her careless ways, especially by men such as his libidinous brother. It wasn't his job to protect her so Ulquiorra stayed where he was, until he heard her distance scream, unnoticeable by the rest of their guests.
"Don't go after her." Coyote blocked his way to the staircase.
He pushed pass his older brother. "What makes you think I am going after her? Obviously Nnoitra is about to claim her."
"Exactly, you shouldn't interfere." Coyote folded his arms.
"I don't care what happens to her. She's a pathetic, weak human." Ulquiorra walked away into the direction of the scream he heard.
Before he was out of earshot he heard Coyote whisper, "Francisca Salazar."
Ulquiorra paused in his steps. "I don't need to know meaningless details when there are much more important things to deal with."
He walked slowly, in the direction of the front doors, making it seem that he wanted to be outside. Ulquiorra turned down a narrow corridor at the last second, hoping no one spotted him. He didn't need his siblings confusing his actions for something else entirely. He couldn't hear any more noise and had no clue whether that was a good or a bad thing. When he reached the end, he was surprised to see that they both were still clothed. The redheaded lady was holding a knife coated in fresh blood, his brother clutching the side of his stomach.
"Perra!"
She stumbled backwards until her back hit the wall of the dead end and she slid to the ground. She was still clutching the knife in such a tight grip that her knuckles had turned as white as his skin. Ulquiorra went over to his brother and placed a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from moving. Nnoitra looked up at him, anger and hatred clearly showing on his face. His brother struggled to get out of the grip but that made him squeeze more. The wound was close to healing by itself.
"Let me at her. Wait until I snap her skinny little neck in my hands." He shouted out.
"You can't do that."
"Are you protecting her?" Nnoitra snapped at him.
"No, I'm protecting you." Ulquiorra released his grip. "It would be breaking the third rule."
Nnoitra scoffed before getting up and walking away. Ulquiorra looked over at the lady, who was visibly shaking. He was about to mutter something under his breath but then saw the knife with blood drip off of it. He shook his head as if to shake the thoughts from his mind. She was still weak and frail, nothing would change that. He turned also to walk away, wanting to rest, already over the night's events.
"I didn't need your help." She called out to him, though it was barely more than a croaky whisper.
"Don't think that I was helping you in any way." He stopped, heading back over to her before stating. "You screamed."
She cleared her throat and laughed. "He pulled my hair, don't you realise how long it took me to do?"
He noticed that her hair was out of the pins that kept it up. "If you had just watched out for yourself then you wouldn't have gotten into the situation." He tore off her mask, seeing that he was right when for eyes there were just red diamantes on it. The ribbons that held it were ripped and saw she had her eyes tightly closed. "Open your eyes mujer."
She did as he told her, after a few seconds, and what he saw was definitely not what he was expecting. Instead of seeing clear irises and pupils, he saw both her eyes were covered with a milky white, the pupils only differentiated by the purple-grey colour underneath. She giggled at his long silence, but let him continue staring, blinking a few time even though it didn't help her. While he stayed quiet she used the time to return the knife to the garter under her dress, after she wiped it clean.
"Never seen a blind person before?"
He stayed silent, not feeling the need to talk to her.
"As you can see, I'm unable to watch where I'm going."
She walked up to him with her arms in front of her, feeling around. For some reason he thought that she had her arms out in spite of him, instead of actually needing to know where she was going. He didn't know why he stayed in her way when she got to him, her hands touching his clothed chest. He saw her frown slightly as she felt around, she couldn't know that he was still in the same clothes as when she had spilt the wine on him, it had dried long ago. Her fingers moved upwards, towards his mask before she took it off him.
"What are you doing?" Ulquiorra asked, though made no move to stop her.
"I'm trying to see you." She replied, continuing with her ministrations. "How can I properly thank you, when I don't know what you look like?"
He closed his eyes, surrendering for just one moment. Her feather-light touches skimmed over his cheeks, forehead, eyelids and lips. She ran her fingers through his hair, Ulquiorra hissed slightly when she reached some knots and ended up tugging some strands from his scalp. She made her way from his shoulders down to his hands, grabbing each one and feeling each finger. Her fingers trailed all the way back up to his neck and started slowly going down the front of his chest. He suddenly held onto her wrists when she got to the top of his pants.
"Parada." He spoke in a harsh whisper.
He looked at the way her tanned skin seemed much darker against his ghastly pale hands. He had been foolish, letting her get this far. Luckily no one had been looking for him or else he would've been made into an idiot. Ulquiorra shoved her to the side and heard her cry out when she knocked the back of her head against the granite wall. He had to catch her again as she almost slid to the floor, unsteady due to the minor head trauma.
"Why do you have to be so mean to a blind person?"
"So what if you lack sight, that makes you worse than every other female here." He scoffed. "Get back to the party before my brother finds you again, stay with the crowd this time."
"It isn't like I had a choice." She pouted, storming away from him.
He faced the dead end and pressed in one of the large stone slabs, opening up a secret passage. As he ascended the spiral staircase within one of the circular towers, he started transforming. Large bat-like wings shredded the back of his shirts, staying folded because they were not able to expand in the claustrophobic area. He quickly removed the rest of his clothing before his hands and feet turned into talons. Black fur sprouted from his arms and legs, also covering his waist, and a long thin tail whipped around him.
He reached to top and climbed out, perching on the cone roof. His wings were able to stretch fully and his bat ears twitched in the light wind. He felt liquid drip down his front and touched the blood-like substance that an enlarged hole at his sternum wept. This was one of the only times, when in this form, which he could feel released from any constraints. His dark mood increased tenfold but he didn't care, it was going to help him with what he was about to do.
Rojo.
There she was, lying on the ground, hair splayed beneath her. She looked dead. Even from his height he could see the shallow rising of her chest. She was looking up at the sky, arms on her stomach and fingers interlaced. If he didn't know she was blind, Ulquiorra would've been sure she was watching him. Stupid woman. He had specifically told her to go back to the crowds. Out here, alone, there were no crowds. He took flight and made his way to the town, needing to get away.
He was in search of someone, anyone who was stupid enough to be out on a night like this one. Doors and windows were locked, something that could be easily changed, but he didn't feel like putting any effort towards it. He soon found her, a woman pacing quickly to her home. As he hovered in the air, she saw his shadow casted from the moonlight. His victim looked up at him with fear, an emotion he was used to seeing. He could tell that she was getting ready to scream, but didn't give her enough time to start any alerting sounds, as a clawed hand covering her mouth.
He looked into the victim's eyes. They showed so much life in their depth and looking at him with just as much terror. Her hair was red in colour, more like a rusty orange, compared to the one that was in his thoughts. The one who had misty white eyes and couldn't see him for what he truly was. She didn't know the meaning of true despair. He struck his other hand out and it went straight through his victim's sternum. He watched her stiffen, eyes now filled with pain and a begging of mercy she will never receive.
He watched the life slowly seep out of her, her bright eyes slowly becoming duller until they stared at him blankly. As he dumped the lifeless body into the river that ran from his home and all the way through town, he realised one thing. He had just broken the first rule.
A/N: Translations.
Perra – b*tch
Gato – slut/sleazy woman
Puta – whore/slut/b*tch
Joder – f*ck
Bicho – lit. "bug", a way to call someone an ugly woman
Rojo – red
Gusano – maggot
Mierda – sh*t
Che – hey, or any other form of greeting
Mujer – woman
Parada – stop
