One thousand year story:
Chapter one
"Come on, dad, you promised!" the young boy urged.
The older man rolled his hazel eyes and groaned as the boy tugged at his shirt. He had promised his son he would take him to the river to fish with him, today. The boy was growing up, though he was still only twelve, and he needed to learn these things, he knew. But he was still hoping to stay around his mountain home and spend more time with his beautiful wife. His eyes flicked towards the woman by a large wooden basin, washing clothes. For a moment she looked up and smiled at him.
She was quite a stunning figure of a woman. She had soft delicate hands, fair smooth skin, a spotless pretty face, and beautiful black tresses reaching all the way down to her waist. She hadn't gained a single ounce from having their son, and looked just as fair and beautiful as those twelve years ago. She was the kind of woman that any man would kill to get close to. He was sure he didn't deserve her, and was doubly sure that he would die without her.
He finally pried his eyes away from her and looked at the sun creeping higher into the sky. He sighed and put his hands around the boy, turning towards the river just a little ways beyond the woods.
"Alright, son, we'll go," he said, walking towards the forest.
A beautiful wife, and a son so full of life an energy, all three of them living in a secluded mountain vale in Japan, in a place where no one would bother them. He truly felt that his life was complete. He looked forward to the next forty years just growing old.
That day he taught his boy how to fish. An event that gave him great joy. His son managed to hook a tree, a rock, his old man's shirt, and finally, a big one. He was as proud as a father could be, as his boy had brought back dinner for the first time. His wife was happy to share in that joy and listen to the entire events of the day. Then they snuggled up together in their quiet home and went to sleep.
The next morning, the man of the house went out into the forest alone. He could not take the boy with him where he was going this time. He had to go deep into the forest, closer to the base of the mountain. There was a particular kind of plant that grew in the shadow of this mountain. It made an excellent spice and they were starting to run short.
He had some reserves about leaving the two alone at home. He had heard from some passers bye on the road near the mountain that a group of bandits had made a base some distance beyond the other side of the road. No doubt they were there to attack the travelers. He could not be sure of the validity of this information, but it made him uneasy all the same. Who knew what a set of bandits would do to a pretty thing like his wife!
He set out at midday, planning to return some time in the afternoon. He walked out into the tranquil forest, and that allowed him to somewhat relax. This was a beautiful region. The thought of bandits defiling it filled him with a hint of anger. But he was an easygoing fellow, and only used the body he had sculpted through hard labor to defend himself and his family when needed. Fortunately, it had never been needed, though, and it seemed he had lost a little of his young body.
He was able to find the herb and retrieve it without incident. It took a bit of searching, as it did not grow like a weed on the mountainside. Something that tasty could hardly be common. He walked back through the forest, remembering the path he had taken, and made his way back to his home, and his waiting family.
But when he did get home, he met something he didn't quite expect. He walked into the small glade looking from left to right. It was quiet. Too quiet. He would have expected his wife and son to be outside on a beautiful day like this. Although when he looked up he couldn't help but notice a few looming clouds.
"Hello?" he called out to his family. He received no answer.
"Hello!?" he repeated, louder. Still there was no answer.
He walked around to the front of the house. He was a bit confused, now. His eyes met the ground outside the front of his house. It was scuffed in a way it should not be. His eyes widened in fear. What had happened here? He dashed up to his home and burst through the door. There was no one in the front room. Franticly he ran down the hallway to the left. He burst into another room, left dark out of the sun. Finally, his worst fears had been realized. At first he didn't move, his face becoming as pale and white as snow. He fell to his knees, staring at the image before him.
There, on the floor in front of him, were his wife and child. Buried in shadow, they lay lifeless on the floor. The boy lay on top of his mother, who was sprawled out on the floor. Their clothes were stained with their blood, as was the floor around them. The bandits. They had come. They had killed his wife and child! Shaky hands slowly moved slowly upwards. He grabbed a hold of his head, feeling desperately at the long black locks. His whole body began to tremble as tears welled up in his eyes. Finally he looked up and screamed at the mountain. He then broke down, slamming his fists into the floor as he began to cry. He sobbed, alone in the darkness before the image of his beloved family. Everything, his everything… was gone.
When he finally recovered from his sobbing he was but a shadow of himself. All that he loved had gone up in ashes. He had no life left to live. He could not go on like this. He went into their bedroom and retrieved a katana. The houses only weapon. It was a gift to him, from his father, the survivor of a clan war that ravaged a place far away. It was more ornamental than anything, but now he would put it to use. He staggered back into the room where his family lay, drunk off his own sorrow. He placed their bloodied bodies beside each other and stepped back away. He looked at his own hands, now stained with their blood. He then reached for the sword on the floor not far away. He picked up the weapon and drew it, casting away the sheath.
"I will be with you soon, my love," he said to the air around him.
Little did he know that their souls were already gone. A shinigami had already come and taken their souls away to soul society. He pointed the blade towards his own heart. He closed his eyes, gripping tighter around the blade and guard. He plunged the sword into his own body, the blade passing through the heart. His body fell beside his wife and child, now as lifeless as they.
He woke up perhaps an hour later. His hazel eyes opened to see the floor, a wisp of his black hair obscuring the view slightly. He felt weak, in more than one way. In one, he had failed to protect his family. They had all lost their lives. The other, he couldn't move. Lying on the floor he closed his eyes again, hoping that it had all been a dream. That his son would run into the room with all that energy of his and jump on him to wake him up. That he would find his wife lying beside him, still asleep. He moved his eye to look and saw white. A body? It was wearing a white shirt, had black hair… it was his body! He closed his eyes again. He really did it. He was dead, and now he saw his own body before him. He finally found the strength within him to move. He pushed himself up and looked over his body. His eyes traveled and they found the bodies of his wife and child there. He sat and put his hands over his eyes, almost beginning to cry again.
Later he moved back, and realized there was something attached to his chest. He looked down at the chain link, not understanding what it was. He wrapped his hand around the chain and followed it with his eyes. It didn't seem to lead anywhere. It appeared to be wrapped around his house and attached to his chest through a diamond shaped plate of some kind. He wouldn't pretend to understand.
Eventually, some people did come to their home. It was some friends from a village not so far away. He would some times visit them, when he came around. It had been about two months since it happened, now. He had, of course, failed to go and see them. After realizing he could not leave his home, he realized that they probably couldn't see him anyways. And they couldn't. They took their bodies and buried them outside of his home. His chain seemed to wrap around those graves as well. He realized it must be tied to things he was attached to in life, or reasons he was dead, or locations and things, or something like that. But what did it matter now.
At first he was calm. But over time he became increasingly distraught. Was he to remain here for the rest of eternity? Where had his family gone? If only they were there as well. Why couldn't he see them? Did they pass on to the after life so long ago? Then why… Why couldn't he pass on with them? He tried many times, to leave this earthly existence. But something was missing. There was something still preventing him from leaving this earthly plain. It took him some time, but he realized what it was.
Vengeance. He didn't need to guess to know who was responsible for this. Those bandits must have crossed the road and inspected the other side. They found their home, and saw his wife and- he didn't even want to think about what happened then. He wanted them to pay for what they had done. It had started out as not even a thought in the back of his mind. But then it was born, and it welled up and grew until it was the absolute truth. They must pay.
Five months had passed, and he was no longer content. He stood up from the floor where he was sitting and gripped tightly around the chain attached to his chest. He didn't know how much he could do. He just knew that he couldn't just sit around here while another innocent person might lose their life. He looked down at his own chest and realized it had opened somewhat. All that was there was empty blackness. That made him hesitate. But in a moment he regained his vigor and he pulled at the chain. He felt a wrenching in his chest. The first bit of pain that he had felt since he died. But he wasn't about to be discouraged. He yanked again, harder, and felt the same wrench, doubled. This caused him to bend over slightly, a bead of sweat running down his face. Could the dead sweat too? He shook his head at these thoughts and then pulled with all his might. He fell to his knees in pain, leaning his body backwards against the pulling of the chain. Slowly, the hole began to widen. He gave one last yank, and the whole thing flew off. He shouted into the darkness of the room, as loud as he could. As if anyone could hear him. He then fell forwards, his hands hitting the floor in front of him. He couldn't breathe, he found. His eyes were wide as whole new emotions flooded into his mind. He gritted his teeth, shaking with the torrent flowing into his mind. Then his soul shattered.
A piercing scream filled the night. A hollows roar that would even chill the bones of the living if they heard it or not. He had appeared on the roof, large and bestial. He had a white mask, and a large black and red body. He had become a hollow, a true monster. His mind was clouded with the new thoughts. Merciless desire filled his heart. A crushing hunger filled his broken soul. Tonight. He would feast.
He wasted no time. In this new form, invisible to the human eye, he covered much ground. He found the dim lights of the bandits' camp, still stationed in this part of the country, even after all this time. He hadn't known before now, but the thoughts of vengeance guided his senses until he did. He descended upon the camp with due haste. He ripped open the first tent and looked down on the person inside. He stirred from the cold, but only awoke as the hollow plucked his form the bed. At first he was confused, and as he began to crush him in his fist he began to struggle and shout. Torches were lit from the fires still burning and others came to stare at the man. They thought he was a man possessed, and backed away as if scared.
The hollow's fingers then passed through the man's flesh and with a motion of his hand he threw the body aside. The empty corpse slid along the ground until it stopped among the confused others. The struggling soul looked down at his body, now scared for his life and then looks back towards the hollow to be filled with true terror. He could see him now. The white mask with its maw open wide. He screamed but was then silenced as he disappeared into the hollows mouth. One down.
The others had gathered around the soulless body, and more had come out of their tents. They couldn't understand what was happening. And it didn't matter if they did or not. The hollow brought a fist down on a few of the bandits at once, crushing them. He swept his arm through several more, sending them flying. They tried to run, but the hollow pounced on them and crushed them as well. Screams of terror erupted from the camp, falling only on the indifferent ears of the woods. In a matter of hours, long before dawn awoke, the entire camp was wiped out. No survivors.
At daybreak, the hollow awoke in the center of the camp. It looked around with black and yellow eyes at the destruction it had caused. It didn't even remember it, though. He had lost himself in his fury, and had lost his mind, all in the course of a night. But now it was coming back to him. His drunken fury had lifted and now he could see. He lifted his hands and looked at them. These were his hands now. He knew it. Somewhere buried inside this shell was his body, his soul, but this is what he had become. And oddly… he didn't feel a drop of remorse.
"Who are you, hollow?" a female voice asked, "what is your name?"
He looked up to where the voice had come from. It was another hollow. Like him, but more slender. It had a darker red colour in its skin, and on it's shoulders, back, and legs it appeared to have white armor of some kind. He looked away, at the ground. He thought for a moment, but he couldn't seem to remember. It appeared that his name was one of the things he lost. He looked back at the other hollow.
"I don't remember," he replied.
"Oohh," she said in an almost sing song way, "I see. I like what you did to this camp, here. I think I'll call you Zero! As in Zero survivors!"
He thought for a moment, looking down again. This woman was strange. If she could really be called a woman! The voice suggested a female, anyways. And so did an odd set of bumps on her chest. They were actually more shapely and voluminous than the word 'bumps' would suggest. He decided that a name was a name.
"Call me what you wish," he said, turning to leave.
"I think this one's going to be fun," she said to herself.
But it did not escape Zero's ears. He wondered what kind of "fun" she was talking about. All he had to worry about now was how to deal with the rest of eternity as a monster.