Warnings/Notes: Mentions of blood and violence, nothing bad, I think. A spur of the moment Grimmjow oneshot.
Disclaimer: I do not and will not ever own Bleach
oOoOo
He'd always known that his place was in battle, from the very first moment as a Hollow, to the moments as an Espada in Aizen's army. They knew it too. That's why he always got the suicide missions, ones where you were supposed to go against a shitload of enemy forces, not knowing if you made it back.
But he always made it back.
He lived for the moment of seeing his opponent die, revelled in knowledge that it was he who ended their lives, that he was stronger than them. That he was the king, if only for a moment.
If you asked from the opposing forces "What are you afraid of?", the answer wouldn't have been the Cuatro Espada, quick in his killing, nor the Quinto Espada, mocking his enemies. No.
It was the Sexta Espada, who killed with suicidal glee, not caring how hurt he was, as long as there was an enemy to slay, he was there, to end their lives.
Sure, he wasn't the strongest, even he had the brains to admit that, but what he lacked in strength he made up with ferocity. Never killing quickly, always inflicting maximum agony if possible and wearing a bloodstained grin that made the lower, non-seated officers scramble in pure fear.
And he followed, never letting any of them escape.
For him, it was always a magnificent sight. He alone had done it, so he had a right to be proud of himself. Whole field was littered with bodies, ground stained with blood, his Pantera dripping with it. He loved the thrill, the sound of sword sinking to flesh, the screams of horror that surrounded him in the battlefield.
He didn't give a shit how Octava sneered at him when the pink asshole saw the area, whining that now he couldn't collect living shinigami as test subjects. Hell the fuck no, they were the enemy, none was supposed to be left alive.
For the new shinigami they taught about the Espadas: If you ever saw that face, that face or that face, you send a distress call and ask for a taicho, right away. "What about the blue-haired one?" Someone would always ask. He would get a serious look. No, then you don't call, because when you see the Sexta, you're already dead.
The news about this reached Sexta's ears.
They had him laughing for an hour straight.
When the sky turned red and hope left the battlefield, all opposing forces knew who had arrived.
Their blue-haired executioner, one-man pandemonium.
oOoOo
AN: Well, this is an odd one. I was listening Fear of Domination's Pandemonium and then it struck me that it would suit Grimmjow perfectly. Then I just started writing. There was supposed to be some sort of clear events in there and not just snippets, but it just happened to go that way. I know most of this don't make sense when put in to the canon, but I felt like writing it like that. I wasn't even supposed to publish this in the first place, but then I re-read it and it looked nice. So, tell me what you think and again, if you spot any horrible grammar errors, tell me right away. That's all for now, over and out.