Hey everyone, thanks for stopping by. So this story is gonna be pretty much a whole new world, but with all our favorite Bleach characters still alive and thriving in it but due to the world change their personalities are gonna seem slightly OOC but hey! That's the fun in Fanfiction!
WARNING: This is also going to be a very dark story, with lots of death, torture and mentions of rape. So please don't read if those things will upset you.
Disclaimer: I don't own bleach or any of the characters. Just the story line.
Now lets jump right into it shall we?
The crowd was loud, but all she heard was the sound of knuckles hitting bone. The heat must have been unbearable, but all she felt was her pounding heart- but it was beating, which was a positive.
Focus.
The man circled her, his face a mask of viciousness. She studied him, from his large bruised hands, flexing into fists, to his feet moving swiftly through the sand, and knew she could never be stronger or faster, but she could be smarter. Taking a quick survey of the surrounding arena, she looked for anything to use against him. And was met with only sand and rock.
Rocks too small to be useful, his head would be the only vulnerability, but his towering height would make it impossible to get a good enough hit in... unless she got him on the ground.
Focus.
She wouldn't be able to out fight him, he has more weight to throw behind his swings. And, unfortunately, she couldn't evade forever. Not if she wanted to win.
With no other options left, she stopped circling.
He watched her from 20 yards away, as she took one step back, then another before stopping once more.
He smiled wickedly, before charging. Barreling through the sizzling sand towards her.
She watched, took the smallest step to the left to better align herself, and then allowed him to tackle her.
The ground met them with an unforgivable force, the sound of her skull smacking against the sand shook her teeth and sent the whole world spinning. Her vision didn't have time to settle before he was on top of her, his fist colliding with her tender jaw.
Her head spun along with the world.
Gritting her teeth she readied herself for the next blow. But it never came. He simply sat on top her, staring down, quietly. And she wondered, for a brief moment, how she looked to him, before he smiled once again.
She saw him reach to her left flank and barely made out the jagged structure of the rock before he was slamming it down into her left shoulder. A strangled cry escaped her as he lifted his hand to strike again but she thrashed and kicked and clawed and his aim faltered. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that one clean hit to the temple would be all it took. The rock scrapped down her cheek, before connecting solidly with her already wounded shoulder. A resounding crack echoed through the arena moments before her agonizing scream.
Seeming satisfied with his handiwork, he tossed the rock aside, choosing instead to wrap his hands around her throat, trying to squeeze out whatever breath was left in her. Seemed like killing her wasn't personal enough, the bastard wanted to watch the life leave her eyes.
She gasped for breath, clawing uselessly at his face, his arms, anything she could reach. Her shoulder screamed in agony as she struggled, but it was nothing to the burning in her lungs. She could feel the skin of her throat swell and bruise in the form of his fingers. Maybe 40 seconds left before she lost consciousness, and judging by her blurring vision, that was probably being optimistic.
Focus
The knee pressing against her chest was giving him pretty good leverage, and he'd already taken out her dominate arm. Gods-dammit.
And as the sand moved beneath her, sinking as she thrashed, so abruptly her attention was drawn to the screaming faces of all the strangers watching, the ringing in her ears drowned out what they were saying, some looked thrilled- others less so. It appears some had bet on her to win this fight. How touching.
Focus.
He tightened his grip, wanting it to be over perhaps. He knew he was going to kill her.
And she let him, she let him, she let him.
Until she didn't.
Because finally, through seas and mountains of sand, her fingers found what they'd been searching for. And she swung around, bashing the rock into his head.
He flew off her, and she forced her aching body to follow, gripping the short hairs on his head- he didn't seem to like that. Blocking his arm from colliding with her chest, she swung again. And this time he stilled, but she kept hitting him, aiming for his temple.
She felt his blood soaking her skin, making it hard to keep her grip.
But she kept hitting him.
She could see his brains splattering across the sand, making her skin crawl.
But she kept hitting him.
And it wasn't until her muscles refused to continue, that her swinging ceased. Her legs, the only part willing to cooperate, shook slightly as she raised herself from the gore drenched sand. Her left arm dangling at her side, barely attached to her shoulder.
The crowd had gone silent, only a few of them looking her way-perhaps the ones who thought she'd be the one lying dead in the dirt? Instead, they looked high, to where the king sat on his golden throne. He stood slowly and walked lazily to the edge of his balcony, where he stared down at her, expressionless. An emotion similar to fear sunk in her gut, but she had nothing to fear, right? She was the strongest of them all- the one left standing. Then why, as his cold unfeeling eyes bore down into hers, did she feel she had somehow lost?
She desperately wanted him to speak, to tear her out of her own mind- still filled with thoughts of unwinnable fights. Finally, he answered her silent prayer.
"It appears the Trials have finally been concluded." He spoke clearly, loudly yet nearly silent all at once. "Now bow before my daughter, and the new Heir to our beautiful city, Princess Orihime Inoue!"
Cheers erupted from the crowd, they began to shout her name, chanting it like a song, easily overlooking that most of them had just been betting on her death. Something she would never let herself forget.
But for now, she sagged in relief, and only then did she let her fingers uncurl from her little rock. And as the sounds of everyones cheers washed over her, she lifted her good arm above her head and let out a cry of victory. Trying to ignore her older brothers blood dripping down her hand, and soaking into the sand beneath her boots.
I awoke with the screams of my 13 year old self, lodged in my throat. Gasping, my aching throat throbbing with every strained breath. Looking down I saw the blood still on my hands, through the darkness I could see the evil glint of red sprawled over my fingers, dripping onto my sheets.
I bolted across my pitch black room, my body working through muscle memory alone. I barely made it to the toilet before I lost everything in my stomach. I lerched and lerched until my body had nothing left to give. Shaking with an ancient torment I pressed my forehead against the cool porclein bowl, staying as still as I could while the rest of the nausea left me.
And when all that was left of my nightmares was my sweat soaked skin and the slight throb of my head, I pulled the lever- getting rid of all evidence of my terrors- and allowed myself to lean back against the wide lip of the vanity.
Seven years. Seven years wasn't enough to shake the feelings I'd felt that hot summer day, and I wondered how much longer I'd be forced awake by them, couldn't help but think if I would live with the memory etched into me forever. Perhaps, it was best that way.
On shaky limps, I rose, bracing my ghostly pale hands on the smooth surface of the counter. I noticed then, the small rays of sunlight streaming in through the open windows, shining on the marble floors and filling the deep golden tub with a glittering light.
At least my nightmares had the decency not to wake me until dawn.
Though, I wished it was still too dark to see my reflection. The dark circles under my eyes seemed to darken further when I looked directly at them, and my half lidded eyes gleamed, the gray nearly glowing on my face.
I pulled my long sleep shirt over my head, throwing it into a forgotten corner, and breathed deep, as I let the cool air settle over my naked flesh. I kept my eyes clenched tight as I slapped my hands against my numb cheeks, trying to force my brain to awaken. And it was beginning to work, my mind stretching open, when the sight of my brothers brains- etched into the blackness of my eyelids- had me snapping my eyes open, opened to see nothing but my own face.
No brains. No gore.
Those were figments of a long forgotten day. They couldn't hurt me now, but I could still feel the terror in my bones.
My gaze drifted down, instantly settling on my left shoulder, where a rough jagged scar permanently lay. My fingers raised and felt over the ruined flesh, I had memorized the feel of it long ago, but with my dream still heavy in my mind, the scar felt much larger. Even after all these year I could remember the pain, could feel every tug and stretch of my skin as they forced my bone back into my body with a crack loud enough to shake my teeth.
My father- Clark Madoc, King of the Golden City- had later told me that in a wave of savageness and pain, I had trashed the medical room, injuring the two men who'd set my shoulder. And while I couldn't remember doing it, I looked at the broken glass and the fresh blood on my hands- mixed in among the dried blood of my brother- and knew it to be true and wept. For the lives I had taken and the innocence I had left behind.
Shaking my head, I banished the memory. Choosing instead to take in the rest of me, so thoroughly covered in scars and bruises.
The bruises, dark and vicious, littered over my knuckles and along my rib-cage. An every day occurrence. Though I hated it, training the new recruits always came faster when you threw them into the fighting ring first, and then when they were sore and broken, you could build them back up. I took the liberty of fighting them all myself. I, being the most restrained, knew how much the boys could take, knew how far to push them.
These bruises were nothing in comparison.
The scars, on the other hand, weaved over the entirety of my body. They were scattered over my hips and ribs, across my stomach and I knew if I could see my back, they would mark up that flesh too. Half I didn't remember receiving. Others ran deep enough, that just looking at them, made my mind shift through each memory quickly- flashing before my eyes before retreating back into the dark pits of my mind. I don't think my skin had ever been smooth, had ever been unsullied by blood and iron and steel.
I forced my stare back to my face, taking in my features; the delicate tilt of my eyes, the small nose and strong jaw that could take any punch, and felt nothing but hatred.
A beautiful face, so I'd been told since i was a girl. I had every feature- all inherited from my mother- to mark me as one of the Beautiful Inoues. A term that had men everywhere covet me; a prize sheep to be won.
But I could see the ugliness within; the brutality hidden beneath the beauty. They had seen it too, the day of the trials but they had let themselves forget that a beast lived among them.
They were all fools.
And I'd seen enough. I stalked across the room, each footstep a stomp to convey my anger. My hatred. I filled my veins with it, even as the bath water rose in the tub. I allowed myself to be consumed by the anger as I stepped into the hot bath. The searing water instantly making my skin redden, but I welcomed the dull pain of it. Let it help me forget the memories I kept locked up so tight they could only escape in my dreams.
I could hear the maids in the other room, scurrying to dress the bed before I finished bathing. And with my predator senses, I could hear their labored breathing as they rushed about. Pushing out farther, I could hear the faint scuff of polished boots against marble out in the hallway, as the Courts occupants rose along with the sun.
Not caring about the heat, I let my head sink beneath the water, wishing I never had to resurface.
.
.
.
That's it for Chapter one!
I know Orihime is nearly entirely OOC, but trust me her caring nature will make an appearance soon enough!
Please, please, please leave a review if you have any thoughts or improvement ideas, I'd love to hear them!
Until next time-