Life, Death, Insanity

After being left alone once again, the mechanism in the corner destroyed, Triste was yet again found standing in front of her mirror. She played with her new mark idly as old memories overwhelmed her, surprised that her demonic eye did not attack her while she wasn't focused…

She was yet again lost in the past, but not centered around their king like usual. No, she was farther back now, back when she was a hopeless spirit wandering the sands of the mortal world…

That's where she was from: a land of bountiful golden sand, stretching far in the distance, rising and falling like the ocean. Her family worked a plot of land near the large river, a place often infested with large lizards that bore long snouts full of sharp teeth, usually found killing a human that had not noticed his lithe body beneath the surface. But despite the terrible beasts, it was the source of life for them, and always bore many trading boats traveling up and down the river, sometimes even royalty would come through – she remembered waving to them with some of the other children, all giggling when one would be so kind as to wave back.

But things were not always so easy.

Still too young to effectively help with the crops, Triste was left alone to her own devices, to play freely while she still had the chance. It was during these times when she would speak and play with others who had all the freedom in the world, people that were beyond day-to-day work, who bore a chain dangling from the body, most often over their heart.

Most of them never stayed long, many of them never stopping at all, just following the river wherever it may lead. But most importantly, she had never been caught interacting with them. At least, not until one day when a neighbor, too sick to work, happened to overhear from the window. They were stunned to find her having a full conversation with an invisible entity and, like any paranoid person would, explained their findings to the parents and spread the rumors like a wildfire.

Her parents tried to help her, to tell her she wasn't seeing things like she claimed, but Triste had been raised not to lie, and could not see the harm in this unusual gift of hers. And so, unhindered by her parents, she found no reason to lie when the local priests came to investigate. Needless to say, they too were worried.

It was later decided that Triste would be sacrificed to the gods.

"She is a gift of the gods, unfit to live on our plane – we must send her back where she belongs!"

"The weather has been most unfavorable lately – perhaps it is our punishment for having such a gift in our midst?"

Phrases like these were used to persuade the people to turn against Triste.

Her parents tried to protect her at first, but even they had their limits: "Forgive us, but it is for the good of the town!"

And so, she was taken by the priests to one of the nearby temples, laid on the alter in a pure white gown, placed beneath the eyes of one of their most powerful gods as the ritual was performed, and the head priest stabbed her through the heart.

The transition from life to death was a fuzzy memory, almost nonexistent. The next clear thing she can remember is traveling the sands in the same white gown, a chain dangling from her heart like her invisible friends used to have. She had no idea where she was or how she came to be there, only that she was alone without even other ghosts to keep her company – but at the time, she still had not come to terms with her death.

It wasn't until a group of marauders passed by, setting up camp near an oasis that she had stumbled upon in the desert… but they could not see her, could not hear her. One went so far as to walk right through her.

It was then that things started to become clear, that she realized she had passed into the afterlife, as all the others did, and was now left alone in the desert.

Afraid of her situation, knowing that others could not see her, she steered clear of towns and settlements, afraid of being reminded that she was alone despite the chances she had at finding other ghosts to keep her company. And there were indeed times when she would pass by at a distance and feel an overwhelming power emanate from the settlements – some were good and made her feel warm all over, while others seemed darker and more malignant. There were even times when she could see them, the black clothed Shinigamis and the masked Hollows, always seen fighting and taking innocent souls.

For a long time, she stayed clear of them both, afraid of what they could or might do to her; but after a time she found herself wanting to be taken by them. It didn't matter who or how, as long as she could be freed from the torment of endless days and nights with no sign of salvation.

She walked through the towns and villages, she splashed in the puddles and created all kinds of raucous noises, doing anything she could to be noticed by the soul takers… but all she ever accomplished was scaring the locals. No one ever came for her, no matter how often she pleaded for eternal death, how much she wanted everything to simply end…

And finally, about the time she had managed to escape the desert and enter a whole new world of green grass and lush plains, she lost her mind, and her chain encroached completely.

The first village she stumbled upon in her massive hunger was filled with humans darker than she had ever seen, many painted ceremoniously. And there were some, she noticed, that looked straight into her eyes when she approached. One-by-one they were slaughtered, unable to defend themselves against such a vicious beast, unable to stop a creature they had not the power to touch. Her hunger eased, but the desire for more of that delicious energy grew tremendously.

On and on she went, passing from village to village, consuming the powerful shamans of each tribe until her own powers began to take root and develop into the leeching aura that it is today.

For what seemed like an eternity, Triste continued to roam the lands, traveling through thick jungles, vast plains, dead plains, mountains, caves; anywhere that humans had settled, whether they bore a man of power or not, became her target.

She used her powers to suck the energy right out of the workers that tilled the fields or hunted, or even the women who cooked and cleaned and bore children… all were at her mercy.

Though she was clinically insane for a majority of it all, there were some things that still rang clear in her memory, like the first Hollow she ever encountered.

He was a cocky fellow, not much bigger than her and with an uglier mask; surprisingly, he did not try to fight her for the local victims. Instead, he gave them away and warned her of the Shinigamis that had been spotted in the area lately.

Ignorant of the word, the Hollow had to explain to her about the black-clothed humans who bore swords and carried the scent of death with them. A faint hint of recognition flared in her mind, remembering such beings back in her homeland, but she had not seen them since before transforming into a Hollow.

When some did come her way, she was far too powerful to be taken down by two measly foot soldiers, but had the sense not to engage in battle with them, thus using her powers to hide and remain undetected. She knew that the less they were aware of her, the better off she'd be, the more freedom she would have.

After that, other Hollows almost became regular to see, usually in the distance, and it seemed that all of them noticed her almost immediately. And when they did, they backed away, as if cowering in her presence, allowing her to take the victims no matter how starved they seemed… At the time, she never understood; now it seemed quite obvious that they feared her power, probably that of a Gillian by that point, and thus feared being devoured themselves.

This sort of thing continued for many more seasons: drain the humans, evade the Shinigami, have limited contact with the other Hollows… it was a simple life.

But after awhile, out of nowhere, it all came crashing down on her in instant, her deteriorated mind and soul suddenly returning to the light, to find sanity in the world and one's actions, to feel the emotions of a mortal once again… to realize what she had been doing for so long.

In a wave of anguish and guilt, Triste wandered the lands far and wide, lost in her own self-pity, in a new kind of madness that left her more desolate than before.

Her body learned to take from others only what it needed to sustain itself, often without Triste even realizing it was happening. Amidst her grieving, she found her feet had led her back to the beginning, back to the ocean of sand.

And somewhere, somehow, by pure coincidence, she stumbled upon the same oasis where she had first realized her demise… and found a young boy, whose chain hung limply from his stomach.

The boy stared at her in wonder and awe, never before seeing such a creature in his short life. "What are you…?" he marveled, still looking over her when his eyes suddenly showed fear, his body trembling; "Are you… going to kill me…?"

Frankly, she nearly smiled at the question. He still didn't know his fate… and just like her, he would learn in this very spot. "No, little one… I'm afraid I cannot kill you, for you are already dead."

The next few minutes were spent listening to the boy's sobs and incoherent mumblings before taking the time to explain to him the situation. And then, much to her surprise, he asked her a question that made her soul lurch: "Well… if I'm already dead, then are you here to take me to heaven?"

Though heaven was not a term her people used to describe the afterlife, she knew he meant the same place, a place where the dead go to rest and finally be at peace, away from this retched plane of existence.

His bright and hopeful eyes burned into her severely, breaking her heart as she shook her head solemnly: "No, child, I'm afraid I can do no such thing."

His head dropped slowly, his sorrow returning, "Oh… but… I'm so lonely here… I can't find my mommy or daddy… Do you know where they are?" he looked up again, another glint of hope shining there.

But once again, Triste was left to tell him the bitter truth: "Sorry, but I do not know…" she wanted to say more, to try and get through to him that this was it – this was the end of the line, but he just couldn't seem to grasp the idea. Before she could go on, however, he raised his finger and pointed into the distance:

"Well… what about them? Would they know?"

Her head swiveled around, feeling approaching spirits as soon as he spoke. In one sense, she feared that Shinigami had finally caught up with her, in another, she feared they would be Hollow coming to take this boy's spirit…

It was the latter.

Two green Hollows came trotting up at a rather brisk pace, fully aware of Triste's presence, as well as the young boy's. Triste felt a strange sensation prickling up inside of her, one she had not truly felt in years: fear.

All other Hollows had avoided her, why did these two have to come now? Now, when there was a potential snack at her feet that she would not want to suffer.

She sensed their powers as they approached, feeling strong auras emanating from both. They were stronger than any other Hollow she encountered, perhaps being the reason they did not fear to approach.

They walked up gently beside her, casting sideways glances at the boy, who began to quiver under their presence.

"Well, well! You're a new face in these parts!" one greeted Triste almost friendly-like.

Triste shook her head easily, "Actually, no. I have merely been away for quite some time."

"Well, wherever you've been, you must have done well for yourself. There aren't many of us around," the second one replied.

"What do you mean? I have seen plenty of others," she asked, hoping she might be able to distract them from the boy, or at least establish some ground with these two and protect the boy from such a fate.

The second gave a faint sort of chuckle as he glanced to his companion and back again, a humorous glint in his glowing eyes: "You're kidding, right? All that's around here are regular small fry! Those who are content with still feeding off the humans are hardly noteworthy! Only those of us who have progressed as Menos have any real purpose to live!"

Though she knew it would mean trouble, she could not pass up this opportunity: "Explain yourselves! What other food is there besides the humans? And what's a… Menos?"

The humor vanished from their eyes as they met each other's gazes once again, a rather shocked look overwhelming them now.

"You mean you're not an Adjucha?!"

"Adjucha?"

"She's not an Adjucha!" the second one exclaimed out loud, completely astonished: "But her aura… there's no way you're this strong simply by consuming the humans!"

But Triste's silent stare only confirmed it.

"Wh… what's going on…?" a small voice piped, instantly causing Triste to flinch as the small boy made himself known, the two strangers gazing down at him with less than casual glances.

Triste's head whipped back around to him, anger flaring in her eyes: "Be quiet!" she urged him fiercely, causing him to quiver in fear, but if it kept him quiet…

When she turned back to the others, her heart sank as the two seemed to have taken a step or two back, now leaning in close to one another, eyeing her sternly as they whispered menacingly. Her skin crawled to think of what they were talking about, a new wickedness in their eyes that she had only seen in starving Hollows, now focused on her…

When their whispers came to an end, they separated slightly in order to walk forward again, this time slowly with a slight hunch, as if storing energy in their muscles until that perfect moment when they would attack. Triste also crouched in response, her fur bristling as she prepared herself for a fight.

"My, what a tasting looking morsel you have there… Do you intend on eating him?"

Her anger began to grow: "Of course not! He is just a child! And with hardly any spiritual powers to offer!" she growled, exposing her weakness towards the innocent child, as well as the weakness to her Hollow hunger.

"Hmph… than it seems we shall have to do it for you!"

In an instant, both lunged towards the boy, Triste tackling them from the side. "Back off! I won't let you have him!" she growled menacingly, her tail lashing behind her, before turning back to the boy, whose whimpers rang in her ears: "Get out of here!" she tried yelling, but the boy could only cower in place. "I said GO!"

But before he could even bring himself to a stand, one of the Hollows jumped at her, trapping her down with his greater weight while the second went after the boy.

"NO!!"

One last cry echoed across the sands as the boy, pinned down by one claw, was suddenly devoured by the Hollow, consumed in big bite. As if sensing the boy's path into the beast's stomach, she could feel his tiny aura fading more and more until there was nothing left but the Hollow's wicked chuckle and a nauseating burp.

"Why?!" she screamed yet again, squirming beneath the other's claws. "He was just a boy!!"

"That's how we all started out!" her oppressor cried back. "But life goes on and the laws of evolution rule: the strong survive and the weak die! But don't worry, you'll soon be joining that boy after we get through devouring you!"

Their eyes met for just one second, and Triste suddenly understood. This was what they meant by not eating humans… they were eating other Hollows instead.

But before his teeth could catch, Triste exploded in a fit of rage and threw him off with ease, jumping to her feet and tackling the other swiftly, both too surprised to react.

Without hesitation, though no logical reason for it, Triste clamped her jaws around his neck and tore at his flesh, letting his neon colored blood stain the sand while his screams of anguish filled the skies.

As he writhed in pain, Triste turned and met the other head on in an all out brawl, their claws scratching at each other, but while hers could easily score through his spongy flesh, his could not pierce her scaly hide, sliding off as if they were metal. And in a moment of helplessness, Triste lunged for his muzzle and bit down fiercely on his mask.

Though a Hollow's mask is relatively strong, especially that of an Adjucha, the Hollow was frantic of the pressure her jaws were putting on it, her few sharp fangs putting immense strain on small spots, feeling it weaken. And suddenly she shifted her hold, her larger bottom teeth finding a spot of flesh beneath his jaw, wasting no time in breaking that skin, feeling his blood drain heavily before releasing him.

Like his companion, he dropped to the sand in a writhing mass of pain, releasing their Hollow bellows almost endlessly.

"She has broken our flesh!" the other one cried out when he had the breath and sanity, calling out to his friend in dismay. "Now we will never become Vasto Lordes!"

Another term she did not know.

"After what I've seen, neither of you are worthy of the title 'lord'! You couldn't even let one small boy go?!"

"He was bound to die anyway!" he replied defensively. "If I had not devoured him, someone else would have! Even if he did manage to live, then what? Would it really be so merciless of you to let him become one of us?! Feeding off of the humans in order to survive! If only this life was so glamorous!"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously at his mocking tone, though deep down inside, she knew he was right. The chances of him being found by the dead humans in black was slim – she had experienced those odds herself.

Finally she straightened up, gazing down at the two bleeding Hollows at her feet with an air of superiority. "Perhaps you are right… perhaps I would have seen that and decided to take his life myself, to end the misery that awaited him… but it would have been my decision, one out of pity and not the cruelty that seems to dominate our kind!

"You stole the last remains of his life, and now I shall take yours!"

Her body was soon glowing pink as her leeching aura began to develop, streams reaching out and sucking away at the two broken bodies, sapping their energy at an extreme rate, leaving their flesh shriveled to the bone. The one could no longer even whine after only a short while.

And in his last moments, the one who had killed the boy, seemed to smile at Triste: "So… you've finally… felt the hunger… the taste… for other Hollows…"

And in the following instant, his body shriveled to its extreme, both souls fully consumed, leaving only the bodily remains… but her aura began taking that too, devouring their flesh until not a trace was left.

As the aura faded, her head began to spin, feeling the enormous power they had to offer being absorbed by every vein, muscle, and organ, sensing the countless lives they had consumed… so many humans… so many Hollow… and that boy.

Amidst all the intermingled energies swirling together, she could feel the tiny shred of life he had left flowing through her body.

She closed her eyes softly, bowing her head solemnly as all of her senses focused on that tiny soul… until finally he was there in her mind, a sad smile on his face.

"Hi again," he called peacefully, waving his hand callously.

"Hello there," she whispered back, trying as hard as she could to keep a lock on him, to keep from losing him amidst the rising torrent in her body. "I'm sorry about this… for everything that has happened to you."

"It's okay… Like he said, it would have happened eventually."

"You heard that, did you?"

"Yeah… all I could feel over there was pain, hatred, and hunger…"

"But I said the same thing… I admitted how I might have done it in the end."

"I know… but it doesn't hurt over here inside of you. There are so many others here that feel the same, I can tell… But don't worry, soon we'll all be a part of you and things will be okay again."

"How can you be so sure?" she winced, feeling his presence slip away under the immense pressure.

But when he smiled back at her, that horrible feeling in her soul faded: "I just know. You aren't like the others… and besides, someone is watching over you… they will always help you…"

"What? What are you talking about?!"

His broad smile did not falter, as pure and innocent as could be possible, even though his entirety was barely translucent anymore. "He can always see… powerful eyes… the sun… moon…"

"Wait! Don't go!!" she cried out, her body trembling from the force that desired so greatly to break free of her body, the boy's image finally fading from her mind, no longer able to distinguish him from the rest. All that was left was a sweet and innocent "Goodbye."

And with that, her eyes flew open as she reared her head back, a monstrous bellow escaping her tiny body as an enormous surge of power exploded from her chest, surrounding her in her own pink aura, feeling it pulse in and out of her flesh, her body convulsing to the immense power that flowed through her blood, overwhelming her mind, body, and soul…

Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, when the pressure became too much, the entire aura suddenly shot back inside of her, colliding directly with her soul.

A cold chill overwhelmed her, her eyes barely opening in time to see the air around her twist and bend, cracking open to reveal a black vortex, a place of darkness and white sand… and to her bewilderment, it felt comfortable.

Barely conscious of her surroundings or movements, she found herself walking towards the vortex, towards the place that made her soul ache with longing.

Her eyes wandered away one last time, taking in the vast ocean of golden sand, the beauty of the oasis, the blue sky and white clouds… the bright sun… And then they shifted to this new world, finding a large crescent moon in the sun's place, surrounded by the black night sky, and occasional gray cloud. Any trees in range were gangly and bare, and there was no water, only sand.

A cool wind crept up on her, a sensation strange to her thick hide after countless years of hot, sultry air… and what last warmth she could feel behind her was fading fast as the vortex began to close, leaving her isolated in this new, foreign land without a clue in the world.

It was then when, after everything she'd just experienced, she finally collapsed unconsciously into the sand.

Triste thought that when she woke up, she might have found it was all just a dream, that she was still back in the land of burning sand… but opened her eyes to find this was reality. She could feel other Hollows not far, and nothing but Hollow auras… and soon realized why she felt like she belonged here. This was the world of Hollows, the place where they gathered, where they lived when they weren't terrorizing the humans… this was home.

But with that sentiment, she could not help but remember the burning sands, the only thing she could recall of her distant past. No… that was the past. I am no longer welcome there, nor do I desire to ever return… not after all I've done… I must never again return to the mortal world. If I am to live with myself, I must learn to survive in this new world… my new home…

It would not be weeks before she first encountered the King or the others, when she was attacked without warning. But though they had the advantage of surprising her, she gave them quite a shock when she began absorbing their powers, leaving them momentarily suspended with weakness, despite the small amount she took.

But one, powerful word brought it all to an end: "Enough!"

One of the most magnificent Hollows she'd ever seen appeared before her, his dominating presence overwhelming her in everyway. Who was this beautiful creature?

But before she could marvel for too long, she saw the devil's eye upon his mask, watching the crosshair aim straight at her, glowing blue just before her body became wracked with immense pain, her mind on the brink of destruction amidst all the horrors that filled her mind, the images, voices, the memories…

He did not keep his hold long, however, waiting until his subordinates were obedient before releasing her, waiting until the anguish and shock subsided.

Her small body quivered restlessly, unable to grasp what had just happened.

"Hmph, tough little Hollow, isn't she?" one of the minions commented, one that had not partaken in the assault.

"What is she though? She feels like us, but…"

"She is a Vasto Lorde," one voice called out firmly, a beast that stared her down with icy green eyes, causing her heart to frost under his cold gaze. "She looks and even feels a bit different, but there is no doubt about her strength."

"Ulquiorra's right," the one commented, the one with the wicked eye. "It seems as though she is fresh to our ranks," he remarked. "Hmph. She hasn't even been in Hueco Mundo all that long."

Her interest was perked at this comment. How could he possibly have known that?

"Hmph! What a worthless little scrap!" the only female called out tartly. "Why don't we just eat her and get it over with!?"

"I said, enough! I shall deal with this" he called out powerfully, stopping his minions in their tracks as he met Triste's gaze once again, no more images flaring much to her joy. "You – where do you come from? What is your name?"

Regaining some of her composure, she brought herself to a firm stand, staring into his one good eye. Her jaws parted to answer, but hesitated; 'name'? The term was almost foreign to her… She had been living alone for so long, and she could no longer remember her mortal life let alone her name… did she have one?

"Answer," one of the subs ordered, one who had tried attacking her.

Though she gave him a defiant glare, she could only look back at their King with a forlorn expression: "I'm afraid I do not have one… at least, I cannot remember ever being given a title…"

"Hmph… it is unheard of for a Hollow to forget its true name, though I suppose not impossible. Very well then, I shall name you…"

"What?! You can't be serious!" multiple objections arose at the mere thought, leaving Triste speechless that they'd be so adamant about something as simple as a title. What was wrong with giving her a name? "She's just trash! Either send her away or let us devour her soul!"

"Watch your tongue!" he snapped, causing all to flinch but the one with green eyes, the only one who had not objected, but stared at her just as displeased as the rest – if not more. "She is a Vasto Lorde like us! Though she may be of a lower level, she has the same rights as any of us! And that includes bearing a name!

"Now, Hollow! Come stand before me!"

Triste was once again shocked by how forth willing he was in front of these other powerful Hollow. She had no idea who he was, but considering his domineering position over the others, he was obviously in charge… their 'king.'

After a moment's hesitation, she stepped forward proudly, holding her head high as she came to stand elegantly before him.

The King spent a few moments looking over her, sorting through the memories the eye had stolen for him, learning about her past… "From this day forward, you shall be known as 'Triste.'"

"Triste…" she repeated softly under her breath, acknowledging it, getting a feel for it… and though the word was very foreign to her, deep in her heart, she knew its meaning: sorrow.

"Now you are an official Vasto Lorde…" he commented softly before turning his back on her and the others, heading off towards the distance. One-by-one, his subordinates also turned to follow, the last few angry to have let her go so easily, one even going so far as to comment that it was harder to eat something when it had a name.

Feeling this little encounter was over, Triste also turned to leave, heading in a perpendicular direction, wondering to herself if she would ever see any of them again, see that King of theirs… he was such a magnificent creature, even with that eye of his.

She had only gone a few yards when her new name had been called out: "Triste!"

Her head turned to find the King watching her unusually, "Where are you going?" he asked, as if shocked she would even think of heading that way. She glanced between the direction and him, wondering what on earth he meant when he suddenly made himself clear: "Get in line."

Her shock was obvious – was he really inviting her into his ranks? But… the others all hated her, their glares were only too obvious. Her mouth parted to protest, but before anything could come out, there was a dangerous glint in that wicked eye, and fear pierced her heart.

With one glance between the separate path, the minions, and the King, she finally submitted and walked back to join them, her head hung slightly in apprehension of the others, but the King seemed to ignore them as he began leading the way once again.

As the others followed suit, the one with the cold green eyes seemed to take an extra moment to stare, leaving her more uncomfortable than ever, but a tiny hint of attitude remained in tact as she walked past him with an indifferent air: as long as the King wanted her there, they would not touch her… but for how long would this last?