Conscious awoke but physique remained boneless, suspended somewhere within the endless wasteland. Thick lashes fluttered open to reveal a melancholy indigo, dragging warily across the crimson cloth draped over her petite frame to the eldritch shade of unfathomable grey above.
No reaction.
The encroaching presence of another would have resulted in the spineless girl from before to freeze with fear. Battered, broken, yet to be defiled, the last reminder of her chaste – those pure eyes of amethyst – drifted with the crane of her neck. The remaining Kuchiki's lips twisted a morbid smile, none of her tragedy being betrayed by a carefully trained countenance as the second presence solidified. Tendrils of smoke – grey and macabre as the immediate surroundings – engaged in a gradual dissipation, revealing a mane of ebony as dark as her own and startingly crimson hues, piercing every inch of her soul with voracious intent. The nameless figure exuded an aura thick with the darkness and a depravity that wrapped around her slender throat and squeezed, a shudder spreading along her spine as the ability of inspiration become more and more daunting. Swathed in bandages, the chiseled figure could be likened as a deity in place of a demon.
When he spoke, an involuntary jolt of – was it trepidation? – brought some life back to her immobile frame.
"Understand that once a contract is formed, you will be granted neither heaven nor hell. Your afterlife will belong to me."
Rukia wanted to laugh. A stream of ivory feathers kissed her skin, the purest aspect of this desert void of life. Instead, the beginnings of a snort tickled the back of her throat, chin raised ad haughty words guarding a wounded pride resounded.
"You believe that someone who has summoned a demon would believe in such things?" Not a single trace of the girl riddled by desperation and suffering could be found in this empty shell of a person. Resignation was the word, and it hung heavily in the air.
"Do you still wish to make a contract with me, human?" The baritone intonation was sinful and almost sweet, bindings stripping away from taut muscle with each resounding step.
Her eyes fell shut.
"Don't be tedious," she murmured, breaking free of the wind's spell. The cloth fluttered away, leaving her tiny frame bare as the suspension lifted. Rukia felt herself falling deeper into the waiting darkness, to be ensared by keen claws, which never came. Strong appendages caught her slim build with ease, the swish of a tailcoat reaching her ears. When Rukia's eyes opened next, they were met with striking orange hair and a smirking visage.
