Author's Note: Well, this is merely the setting but I'll upload the next chapters very soon, just let me know what you think if you take the time to read the story! Thank you! Oh, and English is not my mother tongue nor do I live in an English speaking country, so I apologize for any mistakes and I'll gladly correct them if you are so kind as to point them out. :)
I do not own bleach of course!
At around 2 am, Ichigo wasn't thinking about the deafening beat anymore. The bass was so loud it vibrated through his chest, making it more difficult to breathe than to move in time with it. The lights, alternating from scarlet red to piercing yellow and then to blinding white, were flashing on and off in a rapid, chaotic rhythm in what strangely seemed to him agreement with the beat, forcing his relaxed, heavily intoxicated body to move.
Standing still or sitting down without passing out seemed an impossible task at the moment anyway. It wasn't exactly dancing, no, his body was moving on its own and his limbs were being thrown violently in every direction in a rhythmic, ecstatic motion, resembling what a spasm would be like if it was a dance.
He didn't remember nor did he care why he couldn't think straight and why he felt so good, or was it bad...A feeling of having no head above his shoulders and no floor below his feet, but only space in which he floats, without a glimpse of pain, but yet with an agonizing excitement in every pore of his body...
He couldn't feel if it was cold or hot, it was just difficult to breathe and this swaying mass of flesh that crashed him like a pulsing wave did not help much. The feeling that he was indeed inside of a pulsing ocean made him gasp for air. Panic overtook him as his efforts for breathing went in vain. Pushing himself through the crowd he reached for the exit door in an effort actually resembling a person somewhere deep in the sea trying to reach the surface as fast as possible.
The sudden, icy breeze of air made him come to his senses for just a split second enough to let the thought of never taking MDMA with huge amounts of alcohol ever again, cross his mind. His senses numbed and his thoughts became incoherent again, so he just let his legs move forward. He became aware of his existence after a considerable amount of time when the piercing sound of screeching tires and horn made an attempt to split his ears...
He had been crossing yet another street without watching at all at the traffic lights or at the cars' direction and his luck had a limit. A silver, sport car at full speed just barely avoided him, actually scraping past him, before stopping in the middle of the road a few meters ahead.
Banging the car's door shut, the driver stormed out of the car and came staggering in the direction of the the orange-haired mess who had fallen head-first on the asphalt and was now on his knees, attempting and failing to stand up.
The driver's face and eyes were turning furiously red, rage and alcohol being the indisputable reason for this, as a nearly empty bottle of gin was loosely hanging from his hand. The frosty wind blew his long, red hair back, revealing his tattooed forehead and making his distorted from anger features appear even more menacing and wild. His septum and ear piercings glistened in the street light as he approached Ichigo who turned just in time to take a glimpse at what he thought was a raging, scarlet-red taurus getting threateningly close to him.
"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! What the FUCK do you think you're doing,huh?" the angry guy screamed and kicked hardly Ichigo on the stomach.
The kid that was still on all-fours, rolled and landed on his back a few meters away, scratching his knees and elbows on the asphalt. The guy, that was broad and tall, seemed huge as he towered over Ichigo. He kicked him on his ribs forcefully a couple of times, before stomping on his gut and then on his face, nearly breaking his nose.
"FUCK, if you wanna fucking die, I'll gladly grant you your wish right now, you piece of shit! Who would pay for my Porche if you damaged it with your shitty excuse for existence, you bastard?"
The red-haired guy's adrenaline, maximized due to alcohol, was at a sky-top level along with his voice. He only felt achingly furious and every hit and swear he launched at the person lying in front of him felt like a release. The feeling of power over the lying person emanated a great amount of pleasure in him that made him think he'd never want to stop.
It almost seemed like his current reason for existence was to cause as much pain as possible to the filth in front of him and make him scream for mercy. He lifted his foot high and he kicked one more time, this time on Ichigo's groin.
"GAHH!" was all that escaped Ichigo's mouth before his cry became silenced, as if excruciating pain and screaming could not occur at the same time. His mouth opened as wide as imaginable but his voice seemed to be buried and not want to escape his mouth to earn him at least the slight relief that screams can cause when pain is inflicted.
With a loud crashing sound, the tall guy leaned forward and smashed the bottle that he was holding on the asphalt. Pouring its remaining insides on Ichigo's face, now crawling at an embryonic position, he grabbed him from his neck and lifted him up grazing the sharp cut glass on his cheek.
"Hey, Renji! Stop it, damn it, you'll get in trouble if you kill this dick!"
A black-haired guy with a tattoo on his face, came towards the scene holding a lit cigarette.
"Jeez, how did you do so much damage in less than a minute, man!"
He said in a rather amused tone examining Ichigo's state.
"Now leave him, anyway the next car will probably finish the job, the guy is fucked up as it is."
His voice and his sadistic smirk seemed to bring the Renji guy out of his frenzy state, but he didn't let go of the grip on Ichigo's neck.
"Shit, you're lucky Shuu was here, cunt" and with that he teared the skin of Ichigo's neck with the glass, deep enough for blood to come springing out of the gash. When he felt satisfied with his doing, he punched the already bloody face in front of him splitting the other's lip and with a final blow he threw him down.
As Ichigo's eyebrow now joined his other split features, he heard a spitting sound and felt liquid run down his already wet from gin face. Growling the red-haired guy started to move away while his companion leaned forward, close to Ichigo's body and put out his cigarette on the center of the boy's exposed upper chest, between the collarbones. This time Ichigo shrieked in pain and shut his eyes tight trying hard to remain conscious.
When he finally opened them, he saw a silver, sport car accelerating and disappearing in front of him. He couldn't decide what part of his body ached more, but he thought that if drugs and alcohol numbed the pain, then he was in a ridiculous amount of one and if he had been sober he'd have probably passed out due to it already.
He dragged himself to the side of the street, leaned back at the traffic light stand and let a sigh escape his mouth. Then he tried to let his condition and his surroundings sink in and make some sense.
Holy shit, what am I doing here? Where the fuck is this place, shit...Shit, what did just happen...and where the hell is my jacket, it's fucking cold...Where the fuck am I? he kept repeating this last question like a mantra as he looked around frantically, not even slightly recognizing the place.
He grasped the stand and slowly helped himself up feeling blood dripping off of his face and neck. Apart from a pair of black skinny jeans, he was wearing just a loose, sleeveless and wide neck shirt which let his upper chest, arms and even the sides of his upper torso exposed. He lifted it up to wipe his face from the saliva, the alcohol and the blood, only to shiver from the sudden exposure of his belly to the freezing wind.
Groaning, he began to move, barely remembering he had no idea where to. Phone and money are in the jacket, shit, I'm cold, he reminded himself in dismay. Reaching a dimly lit park after some minutes, he walked in without realizing it and wandered deeper inside.
The only existing park light was flickering and by the looks of it, it wouldn't stand long. Then suddenly he sensed someone was following him. Maybe it was the drugs or the hits that made his senses so vague and unreliable, he couldn't be sure, but when the park light went off and didn't turn on again, he was sure as hell he sensed fear.
He turned his head to the direction in which he sensed someone was watching him. In the faint light that the almost full moon was casting, he caught the glow of a pair of feline-looking eyes as they approached him. A light chuckle echoed and then a brisk voice reached his ears.
"Rough night?"