Well to those of you who are in the middle of reading my other story, I know I promised you a sordid affair between a teacher and a student, I will write that. Its just that I was super inspired to write this. I don't even know if I'll continue this. It might just end up being a one shot or whatever. I just had to write this out. I hope you like it.

It's a cold September night. The moon is full, shining brightly in the cloudless sky. It illuminates the Onose River as the gentle breeze caress the water, causing gentle ripples to mar the surface. It is quiet. The only sound being the rustling of leaves and the grass.

The silent peace was interrupted by the sound of a man drunkenly stumbling along the grass, a large grin plastered on his face. His aqua green eyes were dull and watery. His inky black hair was a disheveled mess along with his white long sleeved button down shirt and slacks. He mumbles a song to himself as he shuffles to stand along the river's edge.

He stares out at the river, thinking of the one that he loves and how he is to marry her in only a few months. The guys took him out to celebrate his engagement, and admittedly, he had more sake and happoshu than he could handle. He had only come outside for a breath of fresh air. Somehow, he had ended up all the way at the Onose River.

He runs his hands through his hair, tugging on it slightly as he blows out a puff of air. He should be getting back. If not, his friends will likely come and harass him about trying to duck out early and not being able to hold his liquor.

He turns around to walk away from the river, when a flash of black catches his eye. He double takes, hoping its just his alcohol induced state that is causing him to see things.

It is not.

There are thick long locks of black hair floating in the river.

"Hello?" he calls out to the hair. There is no reply.

"Is there someone in there?" he tries again, turning back to face the river and walking closer.

A figure pops out of the water. It is a woman. Her skin is so fair that is practically luminescent in the moonlight. Her slender figure glistens with droplets of the cool water. Her long, wet ebony hair clings to her body, shield her naked breasts from view. Her grey eyes are wide and her red lips seemed to strangle to form words. Her arms flail around her body, splashing water everywhere around her.

Her beautiful face is in a panic. The man could clearly see terror in her eyes.

Quickly, he races into action.

Struggles to take his shoes off, and he rips his shirt open, letting it fall to the ground.

"Help! SOMEBODY HELP!" he shouts as he dashes to the river. The water is bone chilling cold as he wades through it. When he is deep enough, he dives and swims towards the distressed woman.

The currents are oddly strong for such a clear night; they flow and ebb harshly, making his journey to the woman quite difficult and nearly impossible.

Finally, he makes it towards her, wrapping an arm around her waist, he places one of her over his shoulder.

"Don't worry. You're going to be alright. I got you, everything is going to be okay," he assures her as he begins to make his way back to shore.

Suddenly, his right becomes painfully numb. Panicking, he wills it to move but it doesn't obey. It just lies limply at his side. Cold water rushes into his nose and mouth as he begans to sink.

Keeping his grip tight on the damsel, he pumps his legs faster and harder in a fashion similar to that of a mermaid to keep them afloat.

His left leg goes numb.

Fear's icy claw grips ahold of his heart tightly. He sinks once more, his right arm instinctively released the woman as he uses it to try to keep them above water.

His right leg goes numb.

Long dark locks of hair surrounds him, latching on to his arms and legs.

His right arm goes numb.

Using only his torso, he struggles against the waters that are quickly closing over him and the hair that has ensnared him.

His panic filled aqua green eyes locked on the grey eyes of the woman who was allegedly "drowning". She returns his gaze, hunger coloring her eyes.

She pulls him deeper into the ocean. His body burns with the lack of oxygen. He begins to feel light-headed and battles to hold his breath. A battle in which he is quickly losing.

The beautiful woman gives him a hungry smile, displaying impressive razor sharp teeth.

His heart goes into overdrive as he renews his fight against her. He accidently releases some of his breath. The bubbles full of oxygen quickly brushes by his face and escape to the surface.

She moves, effortlessly through the water to the drowning man. He flinches away from her as she places an icy cold hand to his face. She moves hers closer to his, landing a light kiss upon his struggling face.

She gives him more kisses, focusing only on his mouth. Soon, she completely covers his mouth with her own.

He can feel her teeth dig into the soft flesh around his mouth. He releases a strangled scream which is quickly swallowed by the woman as she opens her mouth even wider.

Like a snake, she unhinges her jaw and covers an incrediably large portion his lower face and bites into it.

Intense sharp pain races through his body as he feels her teeth sink into his neck as she devours his jaw. The sickening sound of crushing bone and the image of a faceless girl with black hair tied in a ponytail are his last sensations as the dark oblivion consumes him.

oOo

"Kaien!"

"Kaien-sama!"

"Shiba-saaan~ where are yoou~"

"KAIEN-SAN! COME ON OUT YOU LIGHT WEIGHT!"

Various, good humored, drunken voices fills the air as several men call out to their soon to be married friend.

"KAIEN-SAN! WHERE ARE YOU?"

They called and called all through the night in search of their friend.

Unfortunately for them, when they do find him, it would only be his bloodied shredded remains. The only evidence of what transpired that night to the man who would now, never be able to marry his fiancé, who's sat home alone, waiting for her love to return.

oOoO

Ichigo awoke with a start. His bare torso covered in sweat. His bright orange hair plastered to his head and face. His breath was rapid and his heart was beating erratically.

He had that dream again.

The one about his mother when she passed away saving his life. She fell into the water and was devoured by a monster. The water ran red with her blood, staining his hands and his soul forever.

Only, it wasn't a dream, more of a memory. A horrible memory that has haunted him every night since he was nine for the past 15 years.

Well, not quite.

"Oh, Ohayou gozaimasu Kurosaki-kun. You are up early," said the only reason why Ichigo is ever able to have a peaceful night rest without the interruption of the nightmare. She leaned against the door frame, still donning her sleeping shorts and black camisole, her hair piled high on top of her head. He scowls lightly, his mood instantly brightening as he looks into the eyes of his savior.

"Orihime, I thought that when we began to date that you would stop with the formalities. When I asked you to become my girlfriend, I was certain that you would start using my name. However, here we are, engaged and living together and yet, you still call me Kurosaki. Tell me, when we get married, are you still going to insist on calling me Kurosaki?"

The curvaceous orange haired woman tilted her head and placed her index finger on her lower lip and thought for a few minutes.

"Well...I can always call you Ichi-bo?" an adorably mischievous smile splayed upon her lips.

Ichigo's scowl darkened and he growled.

"Now you're just asking to be punished," he growled at her, leaping off the bed with superhuman speed, her dashed across the spacious room to his future wife and pinned her against the wall. He towered over her, his chocolate brown orbs stared into hers, and an evil smirk decorated his face.

She swallowed audibly, fearing that she has pushed him too far. She gives a nervous, pleading smile.

"Now, now Kurosaki-kun, let's not get too hasty," she held her hands up, just centimeters away from his broad, well developed chest. His smirk grows more vicious. He presses tighter against her, forcing her deeper into the wall.

"It seems that you still haven't learned your lessons from last time. Do you need a second course? Or perhaps, some tutoring?" he asked lowly, his voice barely above a low seductive whisper.

Orihime shakes her head vigorously, her legs were still sore from her last "lesson" a few days before. She was also certain that her back would possibly never be the same again.

His hand slowly trails up her arm. His nails gently glided the skin up her forearm, to her upper arm, scaled her shoulder and continued its journey along the curvature of her cheek, up her face to her hairline and slowly drifted to her back of her head at the base of her neck.

Two of his long slender fingers coil a lose lock of her hair. He uses the hair to pull her head back, granting him easier access to her face. She inhales sharply, shivers tingling all over her body settling in her lower stomach and began to simmer.

He leans closer to her, his face only mere centimeters away from hers. He's able to clearly smell the minty toothpaste upon her breath.

"No?" he mummers, his nose slides against her cheek in a slow vertical motion, causing her breath to slowly increase, her eyes flutter fitfully. "No, I don't think that's right. I think that you're in need of more…instruction." He whispers besides her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck in the most sensual way.

She bites her lip painfully, trying to overcome the dazed feeling that was suddenly thrust upon her. She tried her hardest to gather her thoughts, to not let him drag her underneath his spell as he always does.

But like always, she's pulled under, entangled in his carefully spun web of desire. The more she struggled against it, the more enmeshed she became. Caught like a fish in a net, she was unable to get away. His spell over her was ironclad.

Or so she thought.

In actuality, Ichigo had to try very hard to not get lost in her. To not give into his desires and devour the beauty. He was certain that she was unaware of her hold over him and he prays that she never learns. All it would take is just a little bit of dominance on her part and he would be putty in her small hands. His control over her was nowhere near the authority that she held over him.

She just didn't know it.

His other hand slips underneath her chin, bringing it to him and placed a deep, lingering kiss upon her lips.

She sighed deeply and he inhaled her, restraining himself from burying his hands into her hair.

Just when he was about to lose his control, a loud, wailing sound ranged through their entire home.

Ichigo growled and nearly punched the wall. Orihime looked dazed, then relieved and disappointed at the same time.

He turns away from the girl and stalks out of their bedroom into their monitoring room across the hall. The room blinked a dark red as a monitor flashed and address and number. He growled in frustration.

"Really? This fucking early in the morning? Is there no such thing as rest for the fucking weary?!" he muttered angrily to himself.

He grabs the cell lying next to the monitor and dialed the number that flashed across the screen, at the same time he typed keys on the computer to silence the wailing.

"Hello?" a panicked voice answers the phone.

"What is it?" Ichigo demands into the phone, making his way back to his room. His clothes and gear already lying on the bed.

Orihime was already suited up in her gear. Why she insisted on wearing skin tight leather pants for these missions, her never understood why. He tried once to demand that she not wear them.

A mistake that he will never make again.

She was currently braiding her long orange hair in a tight French braid. He could spend forever watching her get ready.

"…don't know what the fuck this thing is, but it got wings…its grey and scaly….it just fucking ripped fucking Shinji in fucking half!" the voice shouted.

"Okay, Okay, just calm down. It sounds like a low level yokai. Don't worry, we're on our way. Do you have any salt near you?" he asked, pulling on his pants and grabbing his shirt.

"How the fuck am I supposed to know!? And why the fuck would I need salt?!" the voice on the other line screamed.

Ichigo grew irritated. "Because it will fucking protect you from the fucking yokai!" he yelled into the phone.

Orihime tossed him his long black and white sword that was wrapped up in a thick bandaged. He caught it with one hand, strapping it to his back. She walked over to him and grabbed his hand. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the address that was in Ichigo's mind and the man's frantic voice over the phone.

Their world began to dissolve around them, melding into different colors and images. Suddenly, they were on the street, the salmon colored sky hinted at the sun that was beginning to rise just over the horizon.

The smell of fresh split blood permeated the air. The coppery tang of human blood always made Ichigo wince slightly and his stomach coil tightly in knots. He's forced to remember the night of his mother's death every time he encounters that smell.

Thrusting his queasiness aside, he scanned the scene for the monster. Orihime has already left his side, in search for the man who was on the phone and possibly his dead friend.

He heard the flapping of thick leathery wings overhead. It was the yokai.

Smelling fresh food, it dove towards Ichigo. He quickly evaded the monster, grabbing his sword from his back. With a quick flick of his wrist, it was released from its bindings. He could feel the power of it flow into his veins, meshing and combining with his own.

He jumped into the air, raising his sword high above his head and bringing it down with a heavy swing. The yokai evaded just in time.

In a smooth motion, he swung his sword arm to the right of him, impaling the demon squarely in the shoulder. It screamed in pained. The black blood spilling out onto his sword and staining the pavement.

He yanked it upwards, slicing the grey, scaly flesh of the yokai open, causing more of its blood to pour out. It howled loudly, an injured cry bubbled up from its throat before Ichigo sliced through its neck, silencing the yokai forever.

It bubbled and smoke rose up from the ground where it had been slain. The smell of putrid, rotting flesh filled the air. Ichigo much preferred this smell than that of human blood.

His head began to pound, a searing pain shot through his skull.

Shoving his sword through the pavement, he leaned against it to steady himself, grasping his face with his hand. He struggled to keep upright.

Whatcha doing kingie? Having fun killing yokai?

"Ugh! Get…out…of…my…head…" Ichigo grunted.

Why? Its been a while since I've been out and I was beginning to feel rather…ansty?

"You…bastard!" Ichigo muttered through gritted teeth. "Get…out…of…my…head!" The pressure that was mounting in his skull increased. It felt as though his brain was swelling.

I'm afraid that that's quite impossible kingie. There's no way that I can ever leave you…not that I would even want to, you're just too much fun to play with.

The pressure increased. He fell to his knees. When did the bastard become so strong?

Kingie, are you getting weaker? Or am I getting stronger? Maybe it's a bit of both.

"Shut the fuck up..!"

Don't be too upset kingie. I'll take good care of our body, like always. I'll also take good care of our princess's body too.

"You Bastard!...I'll kill you before…I'd ever let that…happen…"

How do you plan on doing that? You can't even fight me off without her by your side.

"Ichigio!"

Speak of the devil…or should I say his daughter?

"Shut…up…she's not…a demon!"

"Oh, so now witches and demons are different things?"

"She's human!"

"For how long?"

"SHUT UP!"

"Ichigo!" Orihime ran to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Ichigo...your aura…its all muddled again…it's him isn't it?" her grey eyes were wide with concern.

"What I wouldn't give to feel those thick, thighs wrapped around my…"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Ichigo shouted at his inner demon.

Orihime flinched slightly, completely aware of who he was talking to.

She closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened them, they glowed a brilliant white as she began to absorb the evilness that lurked inside of her fiancé, draining it of its power and strength.

When she felt that it was no longer a threat, she stopped.

The evil aura pulsed inside her. She felt its impurity invading her mind and her heart. Dark thoughts coursed through her mind. The urge to kill burned through her like a wildfire.

It was gone as quickly as it had come.

Still, she knew that this didn't bode well for her.

It always happened when she absorbed the evil from Ichigo. Briefly she would become consumed with dark engery and ill intent. The more she did it, the worse it got.

Ichigo has been working on keeping it repressed and so far it was going well. This was the first time in weeks that he's slipped. It seemed that as Ichigo got stronger, so did his inner demon.

And as his demon got stronger, so did its dark energy and the more corrupted she became after absorbing it.

Ofcourse, she'd never tell Ichigo about this. He has a hard enough time with her absorbing the dark energy as is. If he found out that it was corrupting her, he would probably distance himself away from her for her own protection.

He slumped against her, breathing heavily. Nothing tired him out more than dealing with his inner demon.

She wrapped her arms around her fallen love, and concentrated on being home, in their bed.

Their world around them dissolves, and they were home again.

She lied them both on the bed and snuggled closer to Ichigo, pressing her small body against his, trying to give him all of the comfort she could offer.

His arms tighten around her, pressing her even closer to him. Her presence was enough to keep away the nightmares and ill vibes and terror that seized his heart whenever his inner demon showed his face. His worst fear was losing to him and Orihime being hurt in the process.

He'd kill himself before he ever let that happened.

He fell asleep, listening to the soft and even breathing of his one and only comfort in life. He could face anything as long as she was at his side.

oOo

It was a cool crisp September night, the moon shone brightly and hung in the sky like an ever lasting light. It was beautiful night really. Birds chirped sofly, whispering their goodnights to each other. Crickets sounds were coming to a slow halt. And the empty elementary school seemed almost abandoned. Not a soul was in sight.

Or so you would think.

The science teacher was still at the school, doing experiments that wouldn't be appropriate for an elementary science teacher. Or anyone for that matter.

A few small kids sat whimpering in a corner, tears streamed their face as they watch the crazed man experiment on one of their classmates.

The muffled cries of their fellow classmates filled their hearts to the brim with terror. Bluish light reflect from the experimentation table. Dark red blood dripped to the floor. Their teacher laughed manically as the body twitched and jerked around on the table.

Unable to take it anymore, a little girl with short brown pigtails stood up and bolted from the room, screaming help as high as her small, horsed voice could go.

The science teacher groaned in frustration. This was time wasted that could be better spent on his experiment. He halted his experiment and stood up from his chair. The metal feet of the chair scraped against the linoleum floor, causing a loud screeching sound.

He left the room, taking great care to lock the door so that no more of the children will try for an escape.

Slowly, he walked down the dark halls, his shoes echoing in the halls.

He heard the sounds of whimpers. A name whispered through his mind as he approached the girls bathroom. The whimpering was a lot more evident.

"Hanako-san?" he called softly, entering the bathroom. It was dark, the only light being the one that came from the small window.

Slowly, he made his way toward the first stall. He knocked on the door.

"Hanako-san? Are you there?" he moved on to the second stall. She wasn't in there. So he moved to the third stall. "Are you there, Hanako-san?" he asked knocking on the stall door.

There was a sniffle and a soft reply.

"Yes, I am here."

He bursts in through the door and sees the little girl. A grin on his face.

"Why hello dear, what are you doing here all by your lonesome?" he frowns.

This isn't the same girl as before. This girl has bobbed black hair and she's wearing a red skirt. She stares at him for a moment. In his perihprial vison he spots a girl without a face and a ponytail at the base of her neck.

He turns to see who it was and if his mind was playing tricks on him, when something cold and hard grasps his neck and forces him down on to his knees. He struggles against this unknown force. It is too strong; he's forced onto his knees, his head towards the toilet bowl.

Somehow the toilet water rises to meet his face as his head is plunged into the toilet. His arms flail around, trying to push the lever to flush the toilet. It's not working, instead of flushing; the water only rises and begins to boils.

He screams inhaling the water. It suffocates him, his lungs burn as they fill with water. His face is in no better condition.

His movements become jerky and slow as they grind to a halt. The pressure on his neck is gone, but it's too late.

He's dead.