Hey! I'm Rin! This was originally my first HitsuKarin story on , but I reedited it because it was of incredibly low quality. So here's the new version, and I hope you enjoy it! Have a Happy Halloween!
I don't own Bleach
OOO
Like every small, American town, ours had a boogeyman conjured to keep kids out of trouble. Like every small-town boogeyman, ours was a deranged killer. Like every small-town, deranged killer, ours was shrouded in so many rumors that it was hard to dissect the truth.
Depending on the person you talked to, the story immensely changed. He had a hook for a hand, was an escaped patient from the asylum, was pedophilic or necrophilic, was a satanic priest... The gossip became more and more elaborate and outlandish the deeper you dug. Vampire, possessed, demon, ghost...
Like every small, American town, ours had a dark underbelly. Like every dark underbelly, ours had its celebrities. Karakura's celebrity was Hugh Wilkins. Wilkins was a doctor from Woodcreek Asylum, located in the forest just beyond the outskirts town, back in the 1940's and 50's when the mental institutions really were more like garbage dumps for the disabled and retarded. After he was killed in 1954, it was revealed that he was one of the busiest serial killers in America. 200 victims were confirmed, and god knows how many more victims are unconfirmed. He would take patients from the asylum, and later on, girls off the streets, and drain their blood and chop them up into little bits and then eat them.
Wilkins and our boogeyman became synonymous in my grandparent's generation. And despite that I knew that Wilkins was very much dead, the very mention of his name sent shivers down my spine.
XXX
"Karin, hurry up! Your dad ain't deaf!" Renji hissed from outside my window.
"Shut it, you moron! Or else he's really gonna hear!" I snarled.
I stuffed my flashlight into my hoodie and tied up my inky hair into my trademark ponytail before ducking through my window. My date grinned.
"You finally ready?" He teased. I glared icily at him.
"Come on. Let's just go." I rolled my eyes.
"Your wish is my command." My red-headed friend bowed theatrically. Once again, I rolled my eyes before we took off down the street.
Tonight was Halloween, and the high school students of Karakura had a tradition. After all the kids went home from their night of trick-or-treating, we would meet at a designated area for an annual scary story-telling contest, dubbed "The Night of Horror" (Or NoH for short.) There were a few rules to be complied with for the event.
One: everybody must come with three things- some sort of light source (i.e., candles, a flashlight, matches, lighter, glow stick, et cetera,) a black jacket, and a date. When my older brother was explaining this to me, he said the light was for emergencies, it was harder to see you in the dark with a black jacket, and the date was just a good excuse to ask your crush out. You could, of course, have your date as a friend.
Two: everyone must have a scary story to share. Real people were not to be used unless they were part of a real crime (just so nobody was offended,) but you could get as gory and detailed as you desired.
Three: no snitching. If you told anybody outside the grades 9-12 about sensitive information on the NoH, you would be ignored for the rest of the school year. If we were to be discovered, snitch or no snitch, we were to scatter and sneak home. If questioned by anybody who did not attend the NoH, we were just to say we snuck out to party with our friends. This rule has never been implemented as it has never been broken and there have never been any interruptions.
Four: absolutely no interruptions during a person's story. My brother said this was the most important rule. No talking or asking questions until after the story, no funny noises, no sound effects or music or anything that made it difficult to hear. And no screaming, and if you felt like you were, muffle it. Bringing a small pillow was optional.
My required date was long-time friend Renji Abarai. In the beginning, he was one of my brother's friends, but became mine as well after I was bullied for being an alleged lesbian. If kids ever picked on me or gossiped, he was always there in the next hour to put them back in their place. The bullying stopped after a few months, and I was genuinely grateful to him for it. I could only take so much after all, even with my tough skin.
Renji and I arrived at the arranged rendezvous, an old country house that belonged to Hugh Wilkins back in the fifties. It was old and dilapidated; white paint peeling off the warped wood, a sunken bench in the side yard, the porch littered with vintage garbage, and what was left in the inside in broken disarray. It was definitely eerie.
I hopped from foot-to-foot, squealing internally.
"Excited?" My red-headed companion asked.
"Very. It's my first NoH, and it's at Karakura's very own house of horrors! Ooh, it's the best day of my life!" I giggled uncharacteristically.
"How about I make it better by saying that it was Grimmjow who put the bug in the president's ear to do it here? Something about it being our last chance to scare the shit out of the freshmen." He chuckled.
I squealed in leapt into the air. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was another friend of my brother's, and he was my idol. Technically, he was a delinquent. Atheist, into punk and metal, wore leather and makeup and dyed his hair ludicrous colors (currently it was baby blue,) got tattoos and piercings and loved a good brawl, and was the head-honcho of our town's excuse of a gang. But that wasn't why I idolized him. Despite being an innate troublemaker with a crap home life, he was independent, responsible, and damn smart. Despite working six days a week, he received fairly high grades and hasn't missed a day of school since he was a sixth grader, was morally obliged to minorities and victims (he did help Renji with my bullying experience, though subtly from what I hear,) and truly cared about his friends. His girlfriend Nelliel tu Oderschwank (also acquainted to my brother) had no complaints.
Renji and I bounded inside, making our way down concrete stairs into the candle-lit basement. From a quick head-count, it appeared that at least thirty people came, many sitting on the floor and in laps to conserve space. I recognized many faces as my brother's friends and my own classmates.
"Ah, hello Karin, and Renji." Uryuu called from the bottom of the stairs, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the tip of his pen. "I'm glad you two could make it."
Uryuu Ishida was the Student Body President. Incredibly intelligent, stoic, and a priggish bastard who didn't know the meaning of leisure time- he was the exact opposite of my brother. Yet somehow, the two grew fairly close as friends. He was well-known for his abidance to the rules and the enforcement of them as well, but also for his political talent. Charismatic and charming in his own way, he quickly won many people, adults and minors alike.
" Hey, Pres! I'm even happier than you are to be here." I grinned uncontrollably.
"I believe it. Ichigo said you were practically jumping off the walls and nearly drove your father crazy." He chuckled. "Go ahead and sit wherever. Renji, I need to talk with you."
"Yeah, okay. See you in a minute, Karin." My date patted my shoulder blade. I hurried off, quickly glancing over the room in case Grimmjow was here, and when I found he wasn't I sat on the wall opposite of the stairs.
"Karin!" I heard a familiar giggle. Rukia Kuchiki, head cheerleader and my brother's girlfriend pranced over before crouching down for a sisterly hug. "I'm sosososososo happy you could make it! Ichigo said that Yuzu wimped out and I was worried that you would too." She whined before sitting next to me.
"Oh please. I wouldn't miss this for the world. I've been working on my story for weeks now, it would kill me to let it go to waste because of a couple of ghost stories." I laughed.
Rukia scoffed. "At least someone's prepared. I procrastinated until, like, two days ago and then I just totally plagiarized a creepypasta." We snickered.
A strong pair of arms wrapped around my neck and I nearly had an aneurysm. I craned my neck to see what bastard decided it was a good idea to scare me half to death, only to be given a peck on the cheek.
"Hi, Nel." I greeted the voluptuous German. Nelliel (nicknamed Nel) grinned.
"Hallo, Karin. It's nice to see you here."
Nelliel tu Oderschwank was an exchange student from Germany who came here when I was in elementary school. Despite her mature appearance, she was actually very childish, more amused by Saturday morning cartoons and stuffed animals than normal teenage activities. She and Grimmjow became instant friends (and eventually an item in the ninth grade,) and Ichigo befriended her while they were freshmen after Nel broke up a fistfight between my brother and her boyfriend. How it happened, nobody really knew. Despite her eccentricities, Nel was one of the most popular women in school, a close second to Orihime Inoue. And for good reason, she was really cool.
"It's great to be here," I responded, attempting to twist out of her bear hug. "Where's Grimmjow? I didn't see him coming in."
"Not here yet. He's helping 'Hime get Ulqui out of die house." The green-haired woman said.
"Oh Jesus. Ulquiorra can be such a pain in the ass." Rukia rolled her eyes. "I don't see what 'Hime sees in him."
"Ulqui's actually a romantic. He's just gloomy und anti-social. You have to remember, he's our resident genius." Nel disagreed.
"Yeah, yeah. But you try talking to him and it's like talking to a wall."
"He opens up to 'Hime."
"Yes, but everyone talks to Orihime."
I tuned out their debate and reviewed my story again until another interruption halted my train of thought.
"Hey Karin!"
I turned my attention to the source of the voice. Yumichika Ayasegawa, another friend of my brother (he was a celebrity, being the quarterback and all) sat in front of me, clutching Hello Kitty pillow to his abdomen.
Yumichika Ayasegawa was a senior and possibly the most badass liberal ever to be witnessed by Karakura. As one of a handful of homosexuals in Evangelical Karakura, he faced a lot of persecution and hate from adults and classmates alike. But instead of breaking down and giving in, he (sometimes literally) flipped the finger to any and all that dare judge him before actually getting to know him. An animal rights activist, pro-choice, minority rights, tree-hugger- he was as democratic as you could get here. And I really looked up to him for it, just not as much as I did Grimmjow.
"Yumichika! Dear god, it's been forever!" I beamed and hugged him. He returned the gesture.
"I am so happy you're here. Ikkaku thought you'd skip out, but I said, 'nuh-uh, bitch! She'll come! Bitch's been pumped for this for months now!' And here you are! Point for Yumi!" We laughed.
"Now," the gossip-monger leaned in. "Do you have anything to tell me about a certain redhead we all know and love?" he nudged my arm suggestively.
It has been well-known for months now that Renji was head-over-heels with me, and the entire town expected us to become an item. However, I hadn't an inkling of romantic interest for him. He was my friend, and I loved him platonically, but I wasn't going to fall for him. And it pissed me off when people asked for "updates" or whatever, because it was none of their business and it wasn't ever going to happen.
"Yes, I do. Last weekend we were playing video games at my place," the three gave eager expressions. "And he finally allowed me to pay for the pizza he ordered for us."
Rukia, Nel, and Yumichika glared at me for the anti-climactic ending. I could only smirk.
"Yeah, that's great. Real progress." Rukia quipped dryly.
"I know, right?" I cackled.
"Karin, we really think you should at least humor him. Renji's one of the greatest guys ever. He'd take care of you and absolutely shower you with love and loyalty and-"
"Enough. I get it." I cut Yumichika off. "Look, I know you guys love me and all that jazz, but I'm not going to be coerced into going out with a guy that I don't like, alright? If you have nothing else to say that doesn't involve Renji, then kindly leave me alone."
I tucked my legs to my chest as a gesture of finality, and my three friends looked to each other before standing and walking over to the opposite side of the basement. I sighed to myself. Hopeless, the lot of them.
A head of spiky, blue hair suddenly caught my eye. I grinned uncontrollably, my foul mood completely evaporating. Grimmjow was here! With Ulquiorra Cifer (a loyal member of the gang Grimmjow created, and also albino. He wore green contacts and dyed his hair black. Also a friend of my brother's, but only because Orihime was friends with Ichigo and Ulquiorra had a major crush on her) and his date, Orihime Inoue (as mentioned before, a close friend of my brother's and the most popular girl in school. For good reason too- she was gorgeous and nice) following behind him.
I flew to my feet and ran over to the stairwell.
"Grimmjow!" I called unabashedly. He spotted me and smirked, leaning over the rail. I waved to Orihime and Ulquiorra as they passed, and the former enthusiastically returned the gesture, smiling widely.
"Yo, Karin. How's it goin'?" My idol asked.
"Fantastic! I'm so excited!" I pumped my arm giddily.
"Well, we'll have to fix that 'n scare the living shit outta ya, won't we?" He sneered.
I laughed. "You can try."
Grimmjow chuckled as well. "Spunky as ever. You Kurosaki's are all the same."
"Hey, I don't know a single person who wouldn't have us any other way!"
We laughed again. "Ah, it's great to have you here, Karin." He smirked.
"It's great to be here." I grinned with him.
"Grimmjow, I need to talk to you." Uryuu interrupted us. My idol shrugged and followed him.
I returned to my spot on the floor, giggling to myself quietly. I looked up when a shadow blocked the light and saw Renji hovering over me.
"Hey," I greeted.
"Hey yourself. What's got you all happy?" He inquired, poking my nose. I brushed his hand away.
"I talked to Grimmjow." I replied.
"You're like a schoolgirl with a crush. Careful, or Nel'll beat the crap out of you in a jealous rage." He teased. I glared icily at him.
"Okay, why can't a girl admire a guy for his traits without any romantic feelings behind it? Why can't a girl be friends with a guy without any romantic feelings for him? Hm?" I spat venomously. Was the entire town out to piss me off tonight!?
"Whoa, okay!" Renji threw his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry! I meant no offense. No need to bite my head off!"
I clenched my jaw. I needed to calm down before I completely wrecked the best night of my life.
"Renji!" Uryuu called as he trotted over. "We're about to start. Mind blowing out the candles?"
"Sure." My friend shrugged. He stepped over me and began blowing out the candles strategically placed around the room.
"Alright, everyone, we're about to start. We would appreciate it if you all sat down and quieted." Uryuu said over the dull hubbub. It quickly silenced as attendees hurriedly found a spot to sit, girls parking their butts on their boyfriend's laps while friends squished together to conserve space. I waited patiently for Renji to finish blowing out the candles and when he returned, I tucked myself against his side.
"Alright, before we start, I'd like to welcome you all to the fiftieth annual Night of Horror. It's a great pleasure to have all of you here, as it is my last year attending this event. I'd like to thank Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez for suggesting this location for our final year together. For those who have forgotten or don't know the rules, please no talking, sound effects, or electronic use in the duration of someone's story. Please don't use names of people in your story unless they were involved in a real crime. If we need to evacuate, there is a door on the far wall. After everyone has shared their story, we will vote for the best and the winner will be crowned the King or Queen of Horrors and be rewarded with bragging rights. The person to the left of the previous sharer will go. If you are sitting in someone's lap, you will go before the person you are sitting on. Before you start your story, please state your first and last name so once it comes voting time, everyone knows who you are. On that note, let's start with heavyweight champion, three time winner, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."
Grimmjow smirked, leaning over his girlfriend's shoulder. "Yo, I'm Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, and I'm telling y'all about a dare."
"Ya see, one night in Georgia, a young woman threw a Halloween party and invited all her friends from school. It was a large group of boys and girls, and as the night wore on, they began to throw stories back and forth."
"One boy got their attention with an urban legend about the old graveyard downtown. He said the ghost of an old witch haunted the cemetery, and if anyone stood on her grave at midnight, she would snatch their soul and drag it down to Hell."
"Of course, the girl laughed at them, calling them morons for believing such silly superstitions. Then, the boy said that she'd have a different attitude if she did it herself. So the two made a bet. If she could stand on the witch's grave at midnight and come back alive, he would do her homework for the rest of the year."
"The party set out for the graveyard, and with each step the girl took, her heart beat faster. When they reached the iron gate, everyone stared expectantly at the hostess. She pretended she wasn't scared, saying again that it was still just some silly superstition without any grounding, and hoped they didn't notice that her knees were shaking. She took the boy's knife as proof that she had, in fact, stood on the grave, and made her way through the rows of headstones."
"She found the witch's grave, and once more, told herself that there was nothing to be afraid of. She counted the few minutes until midnight, and when her clock finally ticked to twelve a.m., she plunged the knife into the ground. She waited a long, agonizing minute, staring at the soil below her feet, before laughing and shouting mockingly at the grave. As she turn to leave, she felt something tug her dress back. She craned her head to one side and saw the hem of her skirt embedded into the ground. She flew into a panic, screaming and trying to run away."
"After a half hour, her friends began to worry. They cautiously made their way to the grave and found her, sprawled across the dirt, dead, her face frozen in a silent scream. She had stuck the knife right through her dress and pinned it to the ground. The poor girl died of fright."
I exhaled shakily. Ichigo wasn't kidding when he said that Grimmjow was a pro story-teller. Despite the shortness of the story and the anticlimactic ending, he actually had me a little scared, as well as the vast majority of the audience.
Beside him, Tatsuki Arisawa (another friend of my ridiculously popular brother and captain of the girl's soccer team) sheepishly scratched her scalp.
"Whoa, I don't think I'm gonna match that. Anyway, I'm Tatsuki Arisawa." She laughed.
"Before my family came here, we moved around a lot. The majority of my memories are rooted here in Karakura, but I do retain fragments from other places we lived." She began. "Most of them are hazy and pointless; like chasing after a boy in our backyard in North Carolina, trying to build a raft and float it down a stream in Pennsylvania, and such. But there's a period of about three weeks that I vividly remember."
"It was in New Vineyard, Maine. It was a measly excuse for a town, with a population a little over six hundred. We lived in a fairly large home, especially for a family of just three at the time. But it was the only house on the market that was within an hour's commute of my dad's job."
"The day after my birthday, I came down with a fever. The doctor said I had mononucleosis, which meant no rough play for at least another three weeks. It was awful timing, as we were preparing to move to Pennsylvania, and almost all of my things were packed."
"My mother would regularly bring me ginger ale and books. She couldn't do much else at the time, as she was packing everything for our move. So boredom always loomed, and I ached for a friend."
"I don't recall exactly how I met Mr. Widemouth, but my earliest memory of him was asking what his name was. He had a really big mouth- unproportionally large compared to the rest of his furry body. We played everyday in my room, but I noticed that he'd disappear under my bed every time my mother checked on me. When I asked why he did that, he said that he was afraid that my mom wouldn't let us play anymore. Desiring nothing more than a friend to play with, I kept my mouth shut about it."
"One morning, Mr. Widemouth presented me with a box. He said he was going to teach me how to juggle and the things in the box had things to practice with. When I opened it, I cried out. Mr. Widemouth had brought knives into my room! I slammed the box shut and demanded he take them out of my room, but he insisted, saying that it was just a game. It took a long, long time to persuade him to put the knives away, and then he slid to his nest under my bed. I began to wonder just how much time he spent under me."
"I had trouble sleeping that night. I tossed and turned, occupied about Mr. Widemouth, until late in the evening, he coaxed me into an unused room at the back of our house."
"Our backyard was at a deep slope; a thirty foot drop from the second story. He said that below there was a big tramp that we could jump on, and that it was more fun to jump from a higher height. I declined and tried to go back go bed before I got in trouble, but he persisted. After a three hour verbal tug-of-war, he relented and helped me back to my room. I began to think Mr. Widemouth wasn't so much fun anymore."
"The next morning, my mother said it was okay to go outside. She thought fresh air would do me good after being confined in my room for so long. Ecstatic, I put on my sneakers and ran to the back porch, relishing the feel of the sun on my skin."
"Mr. Widemouth was waiting for me at the mouth of the woods. He said he wanted to show something to me, and when I gave him a weird look, he promised it was safe. He led me down a deer trail, explaining how many other of his friends had gone down this path with him, and that he'd take me too when I was ready. When I returned home, I could only think about the path."
"A week later, my family was ready for the long drive to Pennsylvania. I considered telling Mr. Widemouth about the move, but even at the age of five, I suspected that his intentions weren't beneficial to me, so I kept quiet."
"We packed into the car at four in the morning, hoping to make it to our new house at a decent time. I was glad to be leaving, for once. As we rolled out of the driveway, Mr. Widemouth stood in the window, waving goodbye with a steak knife in hand. I didn't bother waving back."
"Last summer, we returned to New Vineyard on the way to my aunt's wedding. The house had burned down years ago, leaving only the crumbling foundation. Purely out of curiosity, I followed the trail Mr. Widemouth showed me years ago. I half expected him to pop out from behind a tree, but another part of me reassured that he was long-gone, tied to the house that was now gone as well."
"The trail ended at New Vineyard Memorial Cemetery, and as I read the dates on the faces of the headstones, I realized many belonged to children."
Tatsuki leaned back, a smug grin on her lips. The reactions of the audience were a mix of mild fright and impressed, the latter coming from the more experienced members such as Grimmjow and Yumichika.
Oh shit, it was my turn! My heart began to race as I felt the stares of my peers drill into my skull.
"Uh, h-hello. M-my n-name's Karin K-Kurosaki a-and I j-just wanna s-say how h-honored I am to b-be here a-and-" Renji terminated my stuttering with a sharp poke to my ribs, silently reminding me just to get on with my story. Ichigo gave me a subtle thumbs-up from his spot across the room. He's so cheesy.
I swallowed the dry lump in my throat and started. "Hugh Wilkins was a serial killer who was born, raised, and hunted here in Karakura for upwards of fifteen years with a body count of over two hundred. But history has forgotten his partner in crime. A girl named-"
"You think it's her?" The voice of a young woman whispered, her voice cutting through the darkness like a blade despite its softness. Almost the entire group cried out, pressing whatever they had to muffle their screams. I practically leapt into Renji's lap, flinging my arms around his neck.
"Alright, who was that? It's rude and against the rules." Uryuu glowered towards a few of the regular troublemakers. We looked around curiously, expectant of someone to fess up, but nobody looked particularly guilty.
"Whoever did that, don't do it again. It' Ms. Kurosaki's turn and we need to respect that." Pres turned to me. "I apologize for the interruption, Karin. Please continue."
"Y… yeah." I swallowed, ignoring the adrenaline coursing through my blood and placed my hands in my lap. "Anyway… her name was Alyssa, and it's said that she was both beautiful and completely obedient to Wilkins."
"Definitely. It's unmistakable." A male, monotonous voice echoed. Again, the majority of us screamed.
Pres lept to his feet, nostrils flaring. "Who the hell is doing that!? Fess up now!" He shouted irately.
"Uryuu, I do not believe that it's anyone here. It's more possible that someone outside is doing it." Nemu Kurotsuchi (a gorgeous, apathetic genius, and from observation, Uryuu's date) interjected.
"That's impossible. I know nobody has leaked anything about tonight." He growled.
"I think she's right, Uryuu. We could've been followed." My brother reaffirmed.
The president scowled. "Alright. Ichigo and Renji, follow me. We're checking the surrounding area. Grimmjow, check both levels upstairs. If it's the police, shout, 'dear lord, you scared me to Timbuktu,' as loud as you can and stall for everybody to get out."
I scooted off Renji and he stood. "I'll be back soon. It's probably just a bunch of junior high kids screwing with us." He grinned before running out the door with my brother and Pres.
Rukia and Nel quickly came and sat in front of me.
"Dude, this is legitly freaking me out. You're telling a Wilkins story and suddenly, we're hearing voices." Rukia chuckled nervously. "Did you plan this?"
"What? Hell no! I'm just as freaked out as everyone else." I defended.
Nel hugged me roughly. "Jackasses have absolutely no respect." She nuzzled my scalp. "It's okay though. I'm sure Ichi und 'Ryuu und Renji'll find the brats und give them a piece of their mind!" She laughed reassuringly.
"I'm not worried. I think my life expectancy's been shorted by a few decades though." I chuckled.
"No kidding. I'm not gonna live past thirty. It's like everyone here has a story scary enough to make you piss yourself." Rukia scratched her neck abashedly.
"I'm surprised Grimmjow didn't decide to tell a Wilkins story. I mean, it's kickass, we're in his home, it's his last year here, it's personal to Karakura…" I shrugged thoughtfully. "I'm just saying. His story was still scary, but Wilkins would've left a lasting impression on everyone and guaranteed him the title as the only person in Karakura history to win four consecutive years."
"Ever the analyst." Rukia rolled her eyes.
"Sie makes a point though. He'd go out with ein bang, as you Americans say." The German agreed.
"Just be grateful for it, Karin. If the rest of your story is just good, you have a clear shot at winning!" The petite woman insisted.
"Yeah. But Grimmjow's being unusually nice. He bugged Uryuu's ear about this place, he potentially throws the competition… it's just not adding up. He has to be doing it for someone."
Rukia and I looked at Nel.
"It isn't me." She denied.
The three of us sighed. Males were impossible to figure out.
Grimmjow bounded down the stairs, jumping over the railing and landing on his feet. Uryuu and his group returned through the back door as well.
"Find anythin'? Grimmjow asked Pres.
"Nothing. You?" Uryuu shook his head. Grimmjow copied the gesture.
"They probably ran off." Rukia chirped.
The four returned to their seats. "We apologize for the interruption Karin. Please continue where you left off." Pres nodded once.
"Y-yeah." I inhaled deeply. "As I said before, Alyssa did anything Wilkins said for her to do. Everything from groceries to even assisting him to kidnap girls-"
Just then, a timid voice interrupted me again. "I'm sorry… but may we join you?" We again cried out in alarm, scrambling across the floor away from the direction of the noise.
"Who's there?! Show yourself now!" Pres shouted, jumping to his feet and glaring into the darkness just beyond the candlelight.
"I'm sorry…" the female repeated. There were slow footfalls, and each seemed to add two tons of tension to the air. Click, click, click, click, each sent shivers down my spine.
A pale figure emerged from the shadows into the pale candlelight. It was a young woman, no older than twenty. She was beautiful; with long, chocolate hair that was braided over her bare shoulder, gorgeous eyes of the same color, with a hint of… something I couldn't quite place my finger on. She had a round face with a pointed chin, and a slim, well defined neck. Her pristine dress hugged her dainty figure, the skirt gracefully brushing her knees.
"Who are you!? Were you the one trying to scare us!?" Uryuu parked. The woman's discomforting eyes watered as she looked down at her scuffed pennyloafers.
"I-I'm sorry… please forgive me…" She hiccuped, gripping the hem of her dress. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm s-"
"Save your tears, Momo. Such a rude child does not deserve your tears." A cold voice scolded the girl. My heart seized as the owner of the voice stepped into the light. He was shorter than his gorgeous companion, couldn't be taller than myself. He had a mop of gravity-defying ivory hair, fringe bangs hanging over his left eye. Long, dark lashes brushed against high cheek bones, hooding his cold, powerful, turquoise eyes. He had a small, round nose, and pale lips set into an apathetic frown. He was wearing dark slacks and a tucked, pinstriped button-up. Over his shoulder was a brown strap attached to a long canvas bag. I felt an immediate… almost gravitation towards him. I didn't know why.
"And who the hell are you?" My brother stood with a snarl.
"Y-yes! I'm sorry!" The female bowed her head. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
The boy's eyes met emotionlessly with my brother's. "My name is Toushirou. This is my sister Momo." He directed his hand to his profusely apologetic companion. "We apologize for scaring everyone, but it has been my sister's dream to share a story at the Night of Horror since before she could remember. We would be honored if you made an exception for us and allowed us participation."
"Yes! Please!" Momo pleaded. "I'm sorry…"
Uryuu seemed to deliberate within himself. "Alright. Fine. But you won't be included in the vote and your story will be last. Is that clear?"
Momo beamed. "As crystal! Thank you so much! We can't express our gratitude!"
The white-clad woman and her brother pulled up a crate and sat behind Renji and me. Momo tucked her dress to her legs as she sat, and Toushirou pulled the load he was carrying off his shoulder and gently set it behind the crate.
"Again, we apologize for the interruption Karin. I promise you'll be compensated after tonight. Please, continue." Pres said harshly, though I concluded that his irritation wasn't directed at me.
"Y-yeah." I nodded, clearing my throat. "A-any, I think I was at Alyssa doing anything Wilkins said. However, Wilkins was a paranoiac, and needed constant proof of her loyalty." I felt a little light-headed suddenly… "So he asked Alyssa to-" a wave of nausea violently crashed over me. I flew from Renji's lap into the darkness, collapsing onto my hands and knees and retched dinner. Ichigo and Renji were at my sides within a fraction of a second, rubbing my back and holding my hair up. Uryuu came over with a bottle of water, twisting the cap off after my stomach finally emptied. I took the water and gargled until the rancid taste of half-digested food was washed out, and then drank the rest.
"Do you wanna go home, Karin? I'd gladly take you back." My brother cooed comfortingly.
"N-no." I responded. I wiped the corners of my mouth with the cuff of my hoodie. "I'm okay. I think I just ate something weird today at school."
"Okay. But just say the word and we're outta here." Ichigo kissed my temple. I swatted his face away.
"Uryuu, I know that this is probably against the rules, but can I pass my turn?" I ask as my brother and Renji help me stand.
"I think that we can make an exception." He permitted.
"Thanks."
We returned to our seats. I sat in my date's lap, practically melting into his arms as I closed my eyes and allowed his warmth and familiarity to seep into me. My skull felt tight…
"Okay, my name's Renji…"
I tuned out the noises from around me. I had felt fine before, but now I was nauseated and felt the beginnings of a migraine coming on. Maybe it was just anxiety. Yuzu got really stressed before class presentations, sometimes even vomiting. Maybe I had public speaking problems too. It was a logical conclusion, especially since I was stressed to impress my idol and uphold my brother's reputation.
My eyes, when open, were glued to the late comers, Toushirou specifically. The longer I stared at him, the greater my sense of déjà vu became. The slope of his jaw, the point to his chin, his high, slanted cheekbones, the dark lashes that delicately brushed them, his wild, snow-colored hair, those pallid lips, and especially his eyes. Those vibrant, penetrating, consuming turquoise eyes. It was all vaguely… familiar.
Time was ambiguous as I lost myself in those eyes. It was slow, dragging at a snail's pace, as if to torture me into madness with it's tediousness. But simultaneously, it raced past me. Before I fully knew what happened in my trance or how much time had passed, it was the strangers' turn. I focused my full attention on them.
Toushirou unzipped the bag he brought with him and pulled out an antique projector. He set the butt of the camera against the staircase, and everyone against the wall the picture was facing (including Renji and myself) moved to the side. Momo stood, brushing off her white dress before addressing us.
"Good evening. Our names are Toushirou and Momo, if you've forgotten. I understand that Karin attempted to tell her story on the same topic, but we're sharing authentic footage of Wilkins and the people from his life. Enjoy." She smiled pleasantly before making herself scarce.
The projector flipped on and the picture appeared. The image was grainy, black-and-white, and further distorted by the cracking concrete that made up the basement. A young, emaciated woman sat on a pristine wooden bench, backed by the white-painted slates of a house. Her thin hands gripped her biceps defensively, creating a metaphorical wall between herself and whoever was on the opposite side of the camera. Dark eyes broadcast fear and paranoia, and waist-length, bone-straight hair contrasted her alabaster skin.
Funky thing was, she looked a lot like me. The thickness of her jaw, the length of her neck, the point of her nose, the high brow ridge… I didn't remember participating in this though. Wouldn't it be against the rules to?
My head ached too…
"Toushirou, what is that?" She hissed, eyes not meeting the camera, probably directed at the person behind it.
"It's a motion picture camera. Later on, I'll develop the film and we can watch it later and nothing will have changed about this conversation." A familiar voice explained. That was Toushirou's voice… what the hell?
The woman's eyes widened in terror, looking both ways as if to make sure no one was around. "Oh my God, get it out of here! Master Aizen will kill us if he discovers!" She hissed.
"What he doesn't know can't hurt us. Don't be so paranoid." He chuckled.
"There is a stark difference between paranoia and caution! I learned the difference between the two before you were even born! And I am abiding on the side of caution! Turn that off and destroy it before somebody sees it! And if you don't, destroy the footage containing me! I will not be beaten because of you!" The woman spat venomously.
"Alright, alright! I'm stopping it." The picture ended.
What the hell!? There was a woman who looked just like me in the video (aside from the hair and health) and I have no recollection of ever participating in this! And what was with the Toushirou!? Weren't these people aware that inserting real people into your story was against the rules!?
The next image started. This time, it featured a tall, gangly man with shaggy hair and slit eyes. His lips were stretched into a wide, pleasantly surprised grin.
"Izzat really what I think it is, Ran?" The man said with a thick, Southern accent, chuckling as a well-endowed woman with long, wavy hair and attractive features entered the scene.
"It's a camera, yes. 'Shirou purchased it the other day." The woman- Ran- smirked as she snaked her arms around the man's neck.
"I'm s'prised Sousuke ev'n 'llowed it." He whispered, kissing the beautiful woman gently.
"As far as I'm concerned, he doesn't know." She said with a prideful smirk.
The man's grin widened, if it was even possible. "Damn. Who knew that prim 'n proper 'ad it in 'im." He laughed.
Ran rolled her eyes. "Yeah. That aside though, Gin, Karin said he did THAT again." The woman uttered darkly.
Gin's snake-like smile fell just a fraction. "Ain't that a shame? I'll talk to 'er tonight."
The woman separated from him and turned off the camera.
My mouth felt dry. There was a woman who looked like me (albeit more dead.) Who knew a boy named Toushirou. And there was a Toushirou here. Was it a coincidence? Toushirou wasn't all that common of a name. But then he'd have to be in his seventies! At least! Why wasn't anyone stopping the video!? This was clearly against the rules!
My head was still a dull ache. I massaged my sinuses in hopes of relieving it a little.
The next clip came on. It showed the same young woman from the first video, as well as another woman who looked much like a younger Momo. Both women sat on a bench, backed by the siding of a house like in the first video. The former woman's eyes were directed away from the camera, arms holding herself tightly. The second girl was smiling widely, eyes shining with glee.
"'Shirou, come into the picture." The Momo doppelgänger beckoned.
"No thanks. I'm fine. I'm good on this side." The male voice from the first video, Toushirou, declined.
"But 'Shirou, you're a part of this too." The woman whined. "Please?"
There was a sigh of defeat and a pair of denim-clad legs entered the picture. I gasped quietly to myself once they sat. It was Toushirou. Everything was a perfect match, from his button nose to his wild hair. The boy in the video was carbon-copy of the one behind the camera.
I curled up tighter against Renji, mirroring the tightness in my skull.
"Okay! Let's get this show on the road!" The Momo-look-alike cheered. "Gin proposed to Rangiku, and they'll be getting married this week! Master Aizen has been so kind as to even let the ceremony be held back home! He's so great!" She laughed giddily. "I'm so envious!"
Toushirou's and my twin grimaced. Perhaps this Aizen guy wasn't so kind.
"We all want to go home, Momo." My lookalike said dryly.
"Don't worry, Karin! I'm sure that Master Aizen will grant us all a visit to Woodcreek Asylum soon!"
My lookalike muttered something under her breath. Toushirou stood and flipped the picture off. Again, I mentally screamed for someone to stop the videos.
The next picture started. It was dark, a candle being the only source of light. My doppelgänger was illuminated by the pale glow, and was glowering at the filmer, looking both somber and tired.
"It's the middle of the day, Toushirou. What the hell do you want?" She snarled crabbily.
"I… I heard noises. I'm worried about you." He replied.
"I'm fine." My twin dismissed. "Now allow me to sleep. I'm exhausted."
"But the welts! They need to be treated or you'll get sick!" Toushirou's doppelgänger retorted.
"I'm fine. It didn't hurt as much as it usually does."
"It didn't sound like that. You were… screaming… and it didn't sound painless." He contradicted.
"Whipping is never painless, you moron. My back has just toughened. It happens. Please, go back to bed." She pulled her blankets around her tiny form.
"But Karin!" He persisted.
There was silence from her, and then she sat up, holding the blanket to her bare chest. "Fine. But one creepy move from you and I'll kill you. And turn the camera off."
The camera flipped off, ending the clip. My headache was quickly on its way to becoming a migraine, and my back itched.
The next video started. Gin, Rangiku, Momo, and my twin were sitting on the bench featured in previous videos. The first three were smiling widely, while my look alike seemed much more aloof, or preoccupied at least.
"Gin and Rangiku are married now! The entire community was at the wedding! It was so much fun! Master Aizen even granted them a three-day honeymoon! He's so kind!" Momo giggled girlishly. The smiles of Gin and Rangiku fell a fraction, and my emaciated twin pulled her legs up to her chest.
"Tomorrow we'll be leaving. We're truly… grateful." Rangiku forced a smile, adjusting her beaded bodice.
"Yeah… grateful." Gin concurred, the corner of his perpetual grin twitching. He turned to the silent doppelgänger. "'Rin, d'y'wanna say anythin'?" The tall man questioned my twin.
"... Congratulations." She uttered half-heartedly.
There was the sound of a door opening and shutting and then rustling leaves outside the view of the camera. Toushirou cussed. The picture ended as the four on the bench whipped their heads to one side. My head was pounding.
The next one started. It was in a dimly lit, vaguely familiar cement room. Toushirou sat in the center, leaning against the back of a chair, shirt discarded at his feet. His arms braced the back of the said chair, his forehead rested on the top, hiding his beautiful eyes. He bore such a defeated posture, it made my heart squeeze painfully.
A man walked into the picture, jostling the camera and distorting the image as it teetered. When it came into focus again, the man was behind the pale-haired teen, inspecting a leather strap in his large hands.
I briefly squinted at the picture. The mystery man seemed oddly… familiar. Dark, swept-back hair, a sharp jaw, thin eyes…
My own eyes widened as it hit me. That was Hugh Wilkins. The one and only. You couldn't accomplish a match so exact, even with photoshop. And even then, it's fairly simple to tell when something's doctored. This was original, authentic, real.
So if Toushirou and Momo were really alive when this was filmed…
Oh my god…
"I haven't had the chance to thank you for this motion picture camera, 'Shirou. It'll come to be of tremendous use to me in the future." Wilkins (... or Aizen) smiled with eerie calm. My stomach churned. Every part of me was screaming to run the hell away from here and never look back.
"Do you know how many strikes are delivered for keeping secrets from me?" Wilkins/Aizen questioned airily. The hair on my arms prickled as he cracked the belt in the air. Toushirou and I flinched.
"Ten." The teen replied callously.
"And how many for doing something without my permission?"
"Fifteen." He murmured.
"Tell me, 'Shirou. What's fifteen plus ten?" The older man inquired.
"T-twenty-five…"
"Excellent. That's correct. Now let's count them together." Aizen purred. He raised the leather strap above his head and swung down hard. The strap met the flesh of Toushirou's back with a loud crack and the teen cried out in pain. I screamed into my hoodie with him. God, my head felt like it was in a vice!
"Count them, 'Shirou." Aizen ordered him. Toushirou was completely silent, excluding his light panting. "Count. Them." He repeated.
"O-o-one." The teen rasped. My head throbbed aggressively, reminding me that it was still there.
Crack! I winced as Toushirou cried out again. "T-two!" He whimpered. The strap met his flesh again. "Three!" He gasped. I felt my eyes water and a few tears cascaded down my cheeks. Four cracks, five, then eight then fifteen then twenty, and all the while, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the gruesome scene. It felt as if old wounds were being ripped open, wounds that weren't even mine to begin with. Twenty-five strikes later, and I was freely weeping for reasons I couldn't comprehend.
The Toushirou in the video was breathing laboriously, caked in sweat. Aizen wrapped the belt into a tight circle before disappearing behind the camera. "I hope you've learned your lesson, 'Shirou." The man said. There was a moment of silence before footfalls travelling up stairs were heard. Toushirou simply sat in the chair, breathing raggedly, occasionally sobbing. Moments later, my twin came barrelling down the stairs, a small box in tow.
Toushirou whipped his head up, revealing his tear-streaked face. "Karin!?" He exclaimed dubiously.
"I'm sorry!" She wept, crouching behind him. She threw open the lid of her box, producing jarred water. She twisted off the cap and poured it over his raw back. "I'm so sorry!"
"Karin, you shouldn't be down here! If Aizen finds out that you were down here, he'll do worse than just whip you! Go back upstairs with Momo! I'll be fine!" He barked.
"Shut it!" Karin shrieked. "Just shut it! I don't care anymore! Fuck Aizen! Fuck him! I'm finished cowering in fear before that jackass! I'd rather be whipped than be the good little girl for a killer!" She sobbed irately. "So just shut it and let me help you, okay!?"
Toushirou dipped his head, relenting to the livid teen. He relaxed under her touch, flinching occasionally as she washed his wounds.
"I love you." He whispered. His words elicited a new wave of sobbing from the emaciated teen behind him.
"I love you too!" She bawled. "I love you too! I love you too!"
The two cried together as the Karin cleaned his raw, bloody back. When she finished, Toushirou stood and turned off the camera.
My chest hurt. It felt like my heart was torn out of it with some crude instrument. I choked on my own sobs, attempting to lesser the explosive pain in my skull. It felt like my head was too small for my brain, making it compress against the walls of my cranium.
The next clip came on. "I-it's on, Karin." Toushirou's voice sniffed. My eyes widened as there was a collective gasp. Karin was stretched nude across a wood table, wrists tied to the legs, blood dribbling down her cheek and bubbling from her lung. Despite the obvious agony she was in, she seemed composed, completely fulfilled. A faint smile even dressed her lips.
"Fi-fifty years…" She rasped as the boy applied pressure to her bleeding chest. "Cr-create s-something… a r-ritual, or a tra-tradition… and after fifty years… I-I'll meet back with you an-nd every… one." Tears pooled at the corners of her fluttering eyes.
"No! Karin! No no no no no no no, no please don't! Karin, love, don't worry! Aizen's dead! He's dead sweetie! Don't worry! Gin got the bastard! I watched him bleed out right in front of me! He can't hurt us anymore! Please, stay with me, Karin! Don't die!" He beseeched.
"Dun' worry… 'kay? Imma come back… as the pretty wom'n ya d'serve." The raven-haired teen hacked up a lungful of blood.
"No! Karin! You're beautiful just the way you are!" Her lover shouted tearfully.
"Toushirou… will ya… kiss me?"
"I'll kiss you when we stop the bleeding!" Toushirou sobbed. "Gin! Where the hell are you!?" He shrieked.
"Please… Toush'…" She pleaded breathlessly. "My v'sion's tunneling… 'n I'm sleepy… I dun'… have… more than… a minute…"
Her lover sobbed, setting down the camera. He leaned over Karin, collecting his composure, and forced their lips together, pouring every bit of passion he had into the kiss.
She was dead before Toushirou broke from her. The pale-haired teen collapsed to his knees, his agonized wails filling every nook of the basement we were in, penetrating deep into my very soul. My throat closed with emotion, and the noise aggravated my pernicious migraine.
Someone barrelled down the stairs and gasped. The picture ended a second later.
Tense silence loomed over the basement. A mix of shock, disgust, anger, and fear were reflected in the faces audience members. Ichigo was the first to bound to his feet.
"Where the hell do you bastards get off!?" He bellowed, red-faced with rage. He stomped over to Toushirou and grabbed the short teen by the collar, lifting him into the air. "Where do you bastards get off on killing off my sister!?" He shoved him against the wall. Uryuu, Renji, and Grimmjow leapt from their seats and attempted to pull my brother back.
Toushirou's cold eyes scrolled to one side. "We're not here for him, Momo. Calm down." He addressed his sister sternly.
"Listen to me when I talk, you shittard!" Ichigo shouted.
"Ichigo! Calm down!" Pres yanked my brother from the boy, but he went right back at it.
"Fuck off Uryuu! These bastards killed off my sister in some sick Blair Witch home movie!"
"Momo, calm down. He's not the one we're here for." Toushirou repeated. His intense turquoise eyes met my brother's fiery gaze. "If you value your life, I sincerely recommend you put me down."
"Excuse me!? You're in no position to make demands, you sick freak!" Ichigo slammed him into the wall.
"Ichigo! Drop it! We'll just rat 'em out!" Grimmjow shouted.
"Momo," Toushirou reminded the trembling, hunched-over brunette.
"Oi! Pay attention!" Ichigo thrust his fist into the (perhaps) younger male. He grunted.
"Don't do anything Momo!" He bellowed. "Don't do it!"
Momo curled her back, gripping her skirt until her knuckles were white.
"Listen, we're not here to hurt anyone! We're here to retrieve our friend!" The white-haired teen reasoned with my wrathful brother, wiping his bleeding lip with his sleeve. "Leave us to our business and you will live to see tomorrow!"
I didn't think Ichigo could get any angrier, but then his face contorted into an expression of unfathomable, animalistic rage. He bashed Toushirou into the wall again, and I could hear the latter's skull connect with the cement. Ikkaku and several other guys jumped to their feet to assist the original three with separating my brother from the boy before somebody was killed.
"Momo," Toushirou panted, his chest rumbling. "Don't. Do. It."
Ichigo raised his fist to hit the smaller man. I blinked, and Momo was between my brother and hers, the side of her fist flush against his carotid artery. My brother froze and his eyes glazed over.
"Don't. Touch. Him." She snarled, glaring savagely at Ichigo. She placed her hand at her side and everyone began screaming, and the shrill noise drilled into my eardrums. I gasped however. The handle to a knife protruded from my brother's neck. She had stabbed him!
"Everybody out!" Toushirou shouted hurriedly, falling to the floor now that my brother's grip had loosened. The attendees rushed out, screaming and crying, Uryuu towing my brother out with them. I sat dubiously on the floor, unsure of what had just occurred and crippled by my migraine.
Toushirou massaged the back of his head, wincing. "Damn… that's gonna leave a mark." He cussed. He came over to me, crouching between my knees, his sharp eyes softening. I should've been afraid of him and escaped with the rest- his sister killed my brother, after all!- but I was rooted to my spot on the floor. Whether it was curiosity or if I just froze up, I wasn't completely sure. I didn't flinch or move when his hand cupped my bicep.
"Hey," he said tenderly. "Do you remember us?"
I shook my head slowly. "No… I don't… but…" I scowled, and then relaxed. Moving my face hurt. "I feel like I should."
He smiled faintly. It filled me with warmth despite the tension in my skull. "That's because you do. It was you in the video, after all." His cheeks colored a light pink.
I frowned, oddly saddened by my alleged amnesia. "I'm sorry. But I don't remember anything." I rubbed my face with the sleeve of my baggy hoodie. "My head hurts like hell though."
A regretful sigh escaped his lips. "I apologize in advance. Just relax and it should minimize the pain."
"Huh?"
Toushirou lunged, plunging his teeth into my neck. I gasped softly from the initial sting, but quickly eased into it, even to the point of stroking his soft hair as he gingerly sucked. I gasped again as a cache of memories opened up. Information, interactions, thoughts and wisdom poured into my brain. I remembered the abuse from Aizen, as well as his murders. I remembered growing to care for Rangiku and Gin, and eventually Momo. I remembered my love for Toushirou, my time with my brethren in the tunnels of Woodcreek Asylum. I even remembered my extensive past before this mess. It all returned.
"Okay! I remember now, love! You can stop!" I relented, pushing his head away from my throat. His fangs retracted and he licked the punctures. I leaned against him, drained by his feeding and my own lack of proper nourishment. Gone was the headache, but now my insides felt like a dry sponge.
"T-Toushirou," I croaked.
"Worry not. Gin and Rangiku will be back with something momentarily." My lover assured me. As if on cue, there were two pair of footsteps that entered the basement from the door.
"Yo! That four-eyed kid was stubborn. Took us a minute ta convince 'im ta give us th' body." A familiar Southern drawl explained. A long, denim-clad leg appeared in the light. Gin's pale face emerged, his perpetual smirk dressing his lips. Rangiku followed at his flank, carrying Ichigo's cadaver on her back, smiling widely.
"When Gin says 'stubborn,' he means the kid just fainted." The voluptuous blonde quipped, gently propping the young boy's corpse against the wall. "Now drink up, woman. I'm sure sixty years has you all dried up."
My lover guided me over to the corpse and removed the knife. My lips automatically tightened around the fresh wound, swallowing the pulsating blood. As unfortunate as it was to have such a young, potential-filled life end, I would rather feed than waste an already-dead fool over sentiment. What is done is done.
"Better?" Toushirou asked as I pulled away from the exsanguinated corpse.
"Completely sated." I replied, wiping my mouth with my hoodie. I stood, stretching high into the air, releasing the tension from decades of disuse. "I'm going to assume that the ten-year delay was because of complications." I said.
"That wou'd be 'cause it did. Took ten damn years ta get this into swing." Gin spat. "Damn kids."
I laughed wistfully. "I missed this." I sighed contently. My family smile, collecting into a big group hug around me.
"Welcome home," Toushirou whispered.
"Yeah. I'm home."
OOO
Credits to Alvin Schwartz for Grimmjow's story, and perfectcircle35 for Tatsuki's.