A/N: This is me being excited about almost finishing all my stories. :D I have 2 chapters left of 2 stories and unknown of 2 more. (including this one.) And then there's Addiction which no one is reading so I can end it whenever I want.
Ulquiorra: I believe this is called "first-class laziness."
Me: Oh, hush, you.
The morning was deceptively bright so far. The sky was still slightly tinged with pink; no clouds skittered above the horizon. The sun was framed by the wooden structure of the Sokyoku, and the rocky cliff edge appeared to be lifting it like a finger, nudging it up into the sky.
From the viewpoint of the sun, the happenings on the cliff were nothing special. The line of black ants in procession to the large wooden frame was no different from usual, and the smaller white ants that followed with their heads bowed low were of no matter to him.
However, to every one of the bowed heads, it meant everything.
Only one head stood tall and resolute. Ulquiorra was still certain that it was not over; positive somehow that his life was not at an end. How they would escape the absolute certainty of this sentence he did not know. But he did know that they were innocent of the "crime" of their accusation. If there was any sense of justice in the world, he knew that they would not be dying today.
He had tried to convince Hallie, Grimm, and Lilinette of this the night before. However, his three friends would not be swayed. So hopeless were they that they refused to see the tiny flame that Ulquiorra clung to, looking ahead with bright eyes, steadfast in his knowledge that things would turn out all right.
Instead, all three opted to blow out the flame of hope; to douse it with the water of misery, hide it beneath the bushel of helplessness.
Ulquiorra looked around. Clutched in the arms of Captain Ukitake was Sora Inoue. The small boy's bright gray eyes were watching him with detached interest, even as his tiny fingers played with strands of Ukitake's pale hair. Ulquiorra wished he could be that careless, sitting in the arms of the gentle old man instead of lined up here to die.
Of course, they weren't going to die. But the thought of it was still a little scary.
"The Espada are here!" called someone by the end of the line. Ulquiorra turned his head and saw the short little captain, Hitsugaya or something. He'd forgotten already. Anger boiled within him, and he clenched his little fists. If this guy hadn't been around, a lot of this wouldn't have happened.
"Sentenced for aiding Sôsuke Aizen in his criminal schemes, they are now being tried, since we didn't get to do it properly the first time," Hitsugaya said. "Are you ready for the execution to begin?"
He looked around as if he was expecting cheers. However, all of the captains besides himself sported unnaturally long, solemn faces. Hitsugaya cleared his throat and stepped back to allow the Captain-General room to speak.
The old man wasted no time on petty speeches.
"Line up the Espada before the Sokyoku!" he called, slamming his staff on the ground. Lieutenant Sasakibe and Lieutenant Kurotsuchi stepped out and spread the Espada out directly below the upper beam of the Sokyoku. Ulquiorra, sandwiched between Nnoitra and Hallie as usual, was repeating the phrase We're not going to die. We're not going to die over and over in his head like a mantra. Hallie took hold of his hand, gripping his palm so tightly that her nails cut into his skin. Her eyes were wild and had a frenzied look in them.
For some reason, Nnoitra – as well as the eighth and thirteenth captains – all had their eyes focused on 'Porro Granz. Nnoitra even looked a little concerned. Ulquiorra was confused, but then he put the thought out of his mind.
Despite himself, his hands were starting to sweat.
Something bright caught his eye. He looked down. A bunch of blue flames had suddenly burst from the ground, except that they were small, like a gas fire, and were in the shape of squares. Slowly the squares began to rise from the ground, forming blocks in the dirt. Ulquiorra could see that there were three for each kid.
The block in the middle stopped at the level of his feet, and his ankles snapped together, sending shooting pains up his leg as the bones hit.
The other two blocks rose higher. When they reached the level of his fingertips, his arms rose with them, until his body was spread like a T. He tried to move his arms, tried to move his legs, but he couldn't.
The blocks didn't stop there. They rose higher. Ulquiorra was shaking when his feet left the ground. He tried to kick back down, but his legs were paralyzed.
Hallie, next to him, was crying openly. He hand was still wrapped tightly around his. He tried to squeeze her fingers, to try and comfort her, but his arms were paralyzed.
We're not going to die. We're not going to die.
He tried to tell her that they wouldn't die, but as the blocks dragged his body higher into the air, rising equally with the others – with his friends – the strain on his throat was too great. His voice was paralyzed.
He looked down. The captains were standing grimly on the ground, watching their steady progress to – where? Was this how they would die – rise up and up and up to the sky, out into the atmosphere, suffocated by the pressure, fried by the ozone layer, crushed by the vacuum? The captains' heads were tipping backwards, their necks like hinges, the pink sky casting skittle-colored shadows on their faces –
The blocks ground to a halt. Surprised, Ulquiorra tried to look up. His muscles did not obey him. The strain on his arms was too much; he couldn't lift his head.
Ulquiorra was paralyzed.
Suddenly he noticed it – why hadn't he noticed it before? The blade. It was huge, covered in white ropes, the silver metal reflecting the pink and orange sun. Now the ropes were slowly unwinding, floating away from the stand, out and out and away from the stick, towards nowhere. The blade was slowly uncovered, free, gleaming in the early morning light. Spearheaded and imposing, it reached just past where the Espada were held.
We're not going to die. We're not going to die.
Down below, the captains and lieutenants looked like ants, pale faces turned toward the sky.
This must be what the sun sees, Ulquiorra thought.
Suddenly more movement caught his eye. Down at the base of the spear, something was smoldering. His green eyes were drawn to it. Suddenly, the base erupted into flames, and his head jerked back in surprise, pulling muscles in his neck. The flames twisted up the base of the spear, engulfing it completely.
Hallie's nails on his hand were about to draw blood.
"Is this what's supposed to be happening...?" she whispered.
We're not going to die. We're not going to die.
Suddenly the flames blew back into the shape of a giant bird. A giant bird. The tail was nearly touching the ground; the neck reared past the supporting beam on the Sokyoku. The wings beat, blowing hot, steaming, humid air towards the children lined up on the block.
WE'RE NOT GOING TO DIE! WE'RE NOT GOING TO DIE!
Lined up like lambs to the slaughter.
WE ARE NOT GOING TO DIE! ! !
The bird's mouth opened; a scream issued from its beak. Ulquiorra could see the flames coiling angrily inside its mouth, flickering just past that fatal lower jaw, curling inside the shell-shaped upper jaw, shooting back inside.
WE ARE NOT GOING TO DIE! ! !
The bird reared back its head.
We are going to die.
The thought popped suddenly into his head, and with that the flame of hope that Ulquiorra had been clinging to so dearly was pinched out. Extinguished, buried, doused. Dirtied, tarnished, gone.
His hope was gone.
The bird struck, and Ulquiorra heard a high-pitched scream.
"NO!"
So, yeah, hope you liked it!
Ahahahaha! Just kidding. You should have seen your faces!
Dimly, Ulquiorra saw the bird retreat, heard the blood sizzling in the flames of its beak. Saw a tiny body fall limply to the ground below them.
Which one of them was it?
Who was dead?
The bird was picking them off one by one; instead of slicing all the way through all of them. He heard the bellows of someone still bound to the block, heard the voice cracking as the body landed, broken, on the ground. Green hair spilled from the head, too much skin was showing beneath the costume.
Lilinette.
The bird had missed; obviously aiming for Starrk, who was first in line. Not counting on the smallness of the children, the bird was now angry. It readied itself for another strike.
Ulquiorra could see the blood spilling out of the small girl from where he was on the block. One of the captains started to rush forward – it looked like the woman medic, with the black braid down the front of her face. The shortest captain almost stopped her, but she pushed angrily past him and knelt by the girl.
Starrk was crying audibly, shouting his denial, his anger, his grief, his sister bleeding on the rocks below. His sister broken on the rocks below.
His sister dead on the rocks below.
But now he had to pay attention, because the bird was coming again, and who knew who it would take next, who knew who would die next. Hallie's lips were moving furiously beneath her costume, murmuring what sounded suspiciously like a prayer.
The bird's wings fluttered backwards; back went its head. Eyes narrowed, flames trickling from its beak in concentration.
It would not miss this time.
Starrk was still bellowing, pulling against his bonds, shaking with his soul.
Ulquiorra was so scared.
So scared.
The head dropped forward, and Ulquiorra's eyes squeezed closed; his heart pumping so hard he thought he might explode, his entire body pulsing with the beat. His mouth went dry. Hallie's nails pierced his skin; a drop of blood ran down his wrist.
Time slowed.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
He swallowed, his heart in his throat.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Licked his chapped lips.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Opened one eye – this was taking too long. Was the bird broken? Was it satisfied with the life of one and now wanted to return to slumber?
What he saw made him almost scream in terror.
The bird's beak was a few feet from his chest, its razor beak seconds away from impaling him. His eyes snapped closed; his heart was pumping angrily, getting its last out. His whole body hurt from the terror.
BA-DUMP.
BA-DUMP.
BA-DUMP.
He opened his eye again.
There was something between him and the bird. Something fire-colored. Smiling hugely, each tooth clearly visible. His tie flipped forward and ticked Ulquiorra's nose. He was standing in midair, and Ulquiorra's huge, terrified eyes looked him up and down. Slacks. Orange button-up. Wide mouth, hand behind his back. He was holding a blade, one hand holding back all that force. His short, shorn hair waved in the wind.
"Ulquiorra Schiffer," said the man, "this is your lucky day. Hello! My name is Hirako Shinji."
That was the tensest thing EVER!
The end for real, y'all! Ahahaha…REVIEW!