Ichigo wakes up with pain in his head. His hands move but don't go far because his wrists are chained to a radiator. The figure of a man is what comes into his view first. The body is a black silhouette in the darkened room. A loud buzzing fills the room, hurting Ichigo's ears as he looks around the place quickly. It must be a basement, by how dark it is, with no windows, no lights other than the one yellow light hanging above Ichigo's head, making him visible but the other objects in the vicinity too dark to see too well. Small bugs fly around the light. The room is cold and damp. There's a rug under him, but the cold cement bites into his back and legs painfully hard.

"Who are you?" Ichigo asks, trying to keep down the panic that has slowly began to suffice. He reminds himself to not panic even though in a situation like this it's difficult. But he's seen so much, been in rooms with killers, and if Ichigo were to be dead, it would have happened when he was knocked out.

"You were expecting Gin," the voice chuckles, still unseen to Ichigo. It doesn't appear to make a move from its position, continuing with a voice that is eerily frightening.

"Detectives are so interesting. They think they have the lead, the step ahead of me. But look at your position. I've always got the upper hand."

"Who the hell are you? Where am I!" Ichigo shouts now, thrashing in his restraints. His legs are free but his arms are not. Ichigo can't get up, he can't move. His bottom is stiff from sitting on hard concreate, back already aching from the uncomfortable upright position against the radiator.

"Here I come," The unseen voice says in a sing-song voice, "to kill you."

Footsteps sound, Ichigo's body freezes up. Soon the once darkened figure walks close enough to be under the same light as Ichigo, close enough to touch his legs. It irks Ichigo. The man's face and figure startling Ichigo. He is slim, but appears to be strong enough to kill a man. His skin is white, his hair is also white, and has black eyes with a yellow ring that look into Ichigo's widened eyes with such intensity, it raises his heart rate, makes him pull his feet up slowly.

He looks so much like Ichigo. So much, that it makes the detective stare in disbelief.

"It's always the same," The man says lowly, "they all give me the same look. Like I'm truly the most terrifying thing they've ever seen. And here you are: giving me the same look."

Ichigo's tongue has tied. No words form in his mouth as he continues to stare at the man.

"You should have seen the way they looked at me, like they were innocent. When they didn't show emotion in their face, I looked into their eyes. And it told me everything that was going through their pathetic minds. So I cut out their eyes. If you make me angry, detective, I won't hesitate to cut yours out too."

So I cut out their eyes…

The words stun Ichigo. An electricity jolts in his stomach at the realisation.

Ichigo is not competent. There's a reason someone as young as him is a detective. He knows that this must be him. No matter how much he doesn't want to believe it, Ichigo is sure of it.

He feels like an insect trapped in the sticky, terrifying web of a spider, the web of The White King.

Ichigo looks away from the gaze. The detective knows exactly who he is. He's the one behind all those killings involving the horns, the white chalky pasty skin, the satanic markings, all those scratches, tears and rips. "You wouldn't." Ichigo manages to say, heart now erratic against his chest.

Disbelievingly, Ichigo tells the killer he won't hurt him.

"I would," The White King says with conviction. "I would love to, because you, detective," he grabs Ichigo's face in a tight grip, making him yelp from the sudden contact. The man's hands are freezing cold, his nails long, stabbing into Ichigo's cheek. He looks directly at Ichigo.

"You're definitely not innocent." He sneers, gripping Ichigo's face tighter.

The detective's mouth falls open and his eyes are wide.

Ichigo stares right into his eyes.

There is no time to be scared. He knows that he can't show the fear.

"Neither are you." Ichigo mutters, images of those dead corpses a constant reminder of the killers capabilities.

The killer remains quiet.

"I know what you're capable of. You're a monster," Ichigo grits out, watching him smile.

"You know who I am. Good. Interesting nickname I've been given, wouldn't you agree? Oh and a monster? Yes. I am a monster…" he pauses, like thoughts are playing on his mind. Then he continues in a menacing tone, "a dignified one."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"So long as you're human," he explains, "–you're capable of doing things that will cast you out, prove you are inhumane. I suppose you shouldn't fear anything other than a human being. "

"You're not a human," Ichigo bites back.

You're only disguised as one…

"Well then, that means I am no monster either," the White King says, letting go. "I am merely a man."

Ichigo watches his face turn plain.

"I bleed like you, eat like you, and sleep like you do. But I don't think like you. That's what makes us different. That's what makes some people so untrustworthy, so…disastrous. "

Ichigo sneers at his words, as he puts himself in the same position as any other man out there, any other human being. Ichigo kicks his legs out at him, angry, unwilling to accept that he is here in the clutches of a psychopath just because he's been on the case, trying to solve this nightmare.

But the White King grips Ichigo's legs, stopping the detective immediately from kicking, but not deterring him from struggling.

"I should kill you."

Ichigo stops struggling at those words.

"My partner will find you," Ichigo threatens, "because he's already found Gin…"

The man laughs. "It doesn't matter about Gin. Who is your partner? Is it the man with the blue hair?"

Shit. Ichigo shudders from the little bit of knowledge he's given him, in regards to the information he knows. What else is this man aware of? Has he been watching the case roll out slowly, planning his next step from the moves the detectives made?

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, am I correct?"

He tilts his head and watches Ichigo for a moment. It's difficult to compose himself when going through a state of shock. Ichigo thinks he must be concussed, because the man's words only continue to stiffen him, making Ichigo disbelieving, like this isn't happening even though it is.

"What's the matter, Ichigo?" The White King smirks, his face making Ichigo's insides burn, his stomach flip, and chest hurt. The detective closes his eyes, breathing getting fast. Ichigo knows that he has to calm down. Breathe slowly, lower the heart rate. The man continues to hold Ichigo's legs, the hands uncomforting to him. Then slowly, he begins to pry them apart, making Ichigo's eyes snap open immediately.

"W-what are you doing?"

"I'm sure you already know," The white king smiles. Ichigo tries to move away, to close his legs and make the man let go of him. But the man only continues to grip harder, nails digging in through the material of Ichigo's pants.

"I'm not like that," The detective tries to say, but the man shuts Ichigo up with words that are too true, it makes Ichigo want to throw up from how convoluted he feels.

"I don't believe you. You like being fucked, don't you? You just hide it from the world."

He roughly pulls on Ichigo's legs, dragging the detective closer to him and making Ichigo's back scrape against the hard cement. Ichigo groans from the sting, lifting his head up so it doesn't hit the ground, his hands above his head still connected to the radiator, stopping Ichigo from further movement.

He can't even sit back up.

Ichigo feels his insides twist as the killer's hands leave his legs in favour of gripping the hem of Ichigo's pants, making him shudder involuntarily.

"Stop," Ichigo says, his voice even as the cold long fingers belonging to dangerous hands are pulling open his slacks.

And Ichigo is stunned when the killer stops abruptly, humming in thought.

There is a long pause – Ichigo's breathing threatening to speed up while he tries so hard to compose himself, because Ichigo will not beg, or cry in a situation like this. Those will only excite the killer, and that's what he wants. Ichigo won't give the White King the power over him. He will not have control because Ichigo doesn't want to allow that to happen. But he is unpredictable, voice sounding again.

"I'll give you a choice," he starts and Ichigo nods his head, looking up at the killer as he looms over Ichigo.

"Either I kill you, or I fuck you. It's your choice, detective."

Ichigo gapes at the choices. Listening to him continue humming. The White King looks at Ichigo, eyes threatening, "tick tock, tick tock, come on. What will it be?"

Ichigo bites his lip. He can't die. He's so close to solving the case. If Ichigo makes it out of here alive then he has a face, a voice to the man responsible behind the killings. So close that they can arrest the white king, and have him put away for good. No more victims, no more of this.

But Ichigo knows that he is thinking so far ahead of himself. He thinks about the closure of this case when his fate is now undecided, in the hands of this killer. Ichigo shakes his head, frowning at the only two choices he doesn't want.

"Then kill me," Ichigo murmurs, watching the man's face. His light eyebrows furrow like the detective has struck a chord in him. The answer mustn't be what the killer wants to hear. He growls deep in his throat, the threatening sound a warning for what will come next: a fist slamming into Ichigo's face.

Ichigo gasps. His head snaps to the side.

The White King grips Ichigo's face, forcing him to face him.

"What's the matter?" Ichigo mumbles, "Don't like my decision?"

His nails dig into the detective's skin. "Don't mess with me. I'm warning you."

"Go ahead."

Ichigo's pants are yanked down. Underwear down and he's exposed.

"Bastard," Ichigo grits out.

"Closeted masochist," he says back.

"I don't enjoy this!"

"I bet you will."

Ichigo watches as the white king reaches behind him, pulling out something from the back of his pants. He brings it to Ichigo's face, flicks it open.

It's a flick knife.

Ichigo pulls his head back. The shiny blade with the razored edge touches his quivering lip.

"Oooh," The killer coos, "don't have anything else to say?"

The blade leaves Ichigo's lips, nipping at his cheek instead. A sting is followed by a little drip down his face. Ichigo watches the killer, his attention on the knife, on the little nip of blood on Ichigo's face. Then his eyes flick to Ichigo's.

"Are you scared?"

Ichigo shakes his head, "no."

There's a short pause –the killer continues to watch Ichigo, while his eyes go from the knife to his face.

Ichigo's shirt is pulled off as roughly as his pants were. Chest open, his breaths are more physically visible for the White King to see as Ichigo's breathing quickens. The knife runs down the detective's chest, over his stomach. Ichigo tenses at the feeling, the scratchy, cold tip of the blade. It doesn't cut him because the killer isn't applying the pressure. But the blade soon circles around Ichigo's nipple, making him groan, the bud hardening.

"I don't like that name," The White King says suddenly. Ichigo looks at him in confusion.

"But it's funny how the nickname is so close to my real one."

"What's your name?" Ichigo asks with a voice too quiet like it's caught in his throat.

He smirks at Ichigo, dragging the blade down the detective's abdomen, nicking the skin, making him hiss. Then the blade travels further south. The man grips Ichigo's thighs, spreads them apart and makes Ichigo close his eyes from the embarrassment and shame. He feels the sharp tip of the blade scratch the insides of his thighs, piercing skin in red lines. Ichigo bucks wildly, crying out and shaking.

"The name's Shirosaki," the killer says, darkly.

Ichigo still refuses to open his eyes.

"But you can call me Shiro, or KING –whatever you prefer. You'll need to know what to scream out afta all."

Ichigo can feel his body beginning to tremble. He can't stop it no matter how hard he tries.

Soon Ichigo opens his eyes, goose bumps prickling over his skin.

There is no protection, no lube either, as the killer's intentions to take Ichigo are made clear.

Shiro spits instead, grabs the head of his hardening cock after pulling it out of his pants. Ichigo shifts, closes his legs slightly as Shiro continues to stroke himself, watching Ichigo's body succumb to the fear. The trembling is a tell-tale sign of it.

Then he grips Ichigo's thighs again, shuffles in closer to him.

"No!" Ichigo's voice is panicked. Shiro doesn't listen to the detective pleading for him to stop.

Ichigo arches his back at the nudging, uncomfortable intrusion that squirms its way into him. His mouth falls open silently, gasping. The flick knife is still in Shiro's hand, the other hand holding onto the detective tightly as he continues to rock in and out of Ichigo. His breathing has turned to panting, forehead sweating, and body shaking.

It's not pleasant. But it's not unbearable either. Ichigo bites his lip hard enough to taste his own blood. The thrusting becomes harder, quicker, nearing the end. Ichigo has become half hard unwillingly.

Then in moments Shiro pulls out and releases over Ichigo's exposed body.

The young detective can't help but think it's his time already. The killer has already used him after all.

"My, you're too beautiful, Ichigo," Shiro says, eliciting a jolt to run down Ichigo's spine, the tone deadly, making chigo's body stiffen while he tries to regain his breathing.

"I just don't think I can kill you…yet."

Yet…

"You can be my personal living breathing artwork." Shirosaki smiles at Ichigo, "my human canvas."

Grimmjow's tired blue eyes bore into Ichigo's vacant desk. It's gotten late, and still there is no sign of the detective anywhere. Grimmjow growls, annoyed but also worried at Ichigo since it's been close to five hours since he left –yet still no return.

He stood from his desk abruptly, picking up his pack of cigarettes and lighter from the desk before walking past Ichigo's desk, looking at it intently before nearing for the exit.

Grimmjow spends less than ten minutes outside. The sky is darkened, grey clouds indented into darkness. He stares at the half moon, smoke filling his lungs before he suddenly stops. The cigarette is forgotten between his fingers for a moment while the blue haired detective gets lost in thought.

"Shit," he snarls, dropping the cigarette on the cracked concreate, stomping it out before reaching for the door, wrenching it open. He doesn't delay any more time as he mounts the stairs into the offices.

Although it is late, close to two in the morning, Byakuya and Renji are still within the building. Renji is walking out of a connecting kitchen area with a mug of fresh hot coffee in his hand when Grimmjow burts back into the room.

"Oh shi –man, you almost made me spill my coffee," Renji whines, coming to a halt before he collided with the other man.

"Fuck your coffee!" Grimmjow growls, "Something's happened."

Renji's face falls serious, "what, what's happened? Is it another body?"

"No, but it will be if we're not quick," Grimmjow rubs a hand through his hair.

Byakuya leaves his office in favour of approaching the two men. He looks between the two, having heard their scuffle. "Where is Kurosaki?" He asks monotonously.

Renji becomes uneasy by the feeling of something going wrong. He knows something has gone wrong because Grimmjow is beginning to stress out.

"Ichigo went after him," Grimmjow finally says.

"He's not supposed to…" Renji starts, but stops when he notices their superior's actions.

Byakuya has both hands on his hips, his black long hair falling over his shoulder as he looks down at the floor. His eyes are closed as he shakes his head.

"Fuck," Grimmjow curses. He starts pacing, wanting to, but not being able to find the words to tell the others what is already clear. Instead Byakuya takes the silence to speak to the two men.

"By now Kurosaki must be with the killer, and we all understand that his position in the matter is not safe. Time is not our friend. We find him fast, or his time is up."

Ichigo left to catch a killer. The killer caught him instead.

Do you think Shiro will kill Ichigo?

Thanks for reading... leave me a review telling me what you think about this chap :)