A loud shouting and heavily falling footsteps brought Ichigo's attention away from the partially mutilated corpse hanging in front of him by the noose-wire it's neck was caught in.
The two that had been seated next to the small, blazing fire were now sprinting towards his and his prize's position within the dark forest. Their faces were showing that they were very alert and extremely worried, most likely for the safety of their friend. But how did they know he was dead? He knew they couldn't have seen him and they definitely didn't hear him, as his victim and soon to be trophy had made nearly no noise, aside from the quiet, strangled, choking sound he produced as he slowly suffocated to death.
So how had these two known? Was it that they had some kind of monitor implanted in each one of them? Or possibly a sort of instinctual sense, like that of the animals he had hunted before he had suited with his Wrist-Computer and Active Camouflage system? It was that that was what seemed most probable, he did remember Kisuke talking about not being able to sense anything coming from him.
So, was it not something that just the green and white-hat-wearing man could do? It was a ability shared by all Shinigami.
But that still didn't answer how they knew he had died, or how they knew something had happened to him. Though, now was not the time to be processing idle thoughts and trying to solve hunt-altering complications, it was time to kill.
"Abukara-san! Abukara-san!?" The slightly more cognitive of the two black-clad men shouted. "Damn it, Akahito! What's going on?! Where are you!?" The muscle-bound man called out as the two made their way inside the woods outlining their temporary camp.
These two, unlike the first, had been smart enough to bring a light source with them. A simple stick on fire. And were now starting their trek into the wooded lot of land.
The two men had watched their friend disappear into the forest in search of some voice that was apparently talking to him. They had laughed at the idea and teased him into going inside the forest to 'find' the voice as a joke that was only made funnier when he had actually given in to their incessant nagging and the slightly drunken idea. But, soon after they had lost sight of him they had completely felt his Reiatsu vanish and instantly freaked.
The two were up with a start and began a furious sprint towards the direction their friend's Reiatsu had been felt, their Zanpakutō at the ready and a fiery branch in one hand to help guide their way through the figurative maze of trees.
"Heyyy! Abukara! Where'd you go to?! Come on, man, if dis is some kinda joke it ain' funny no more!" The shortest and still drunk man grumbled out loudly over the slight crackle from his flaming branch.
The two walked side by side, each looking out for any sign of the missing squad mate. They didn't expect anything like this to happen to the taller man, they really did think that he was just imagining things and that there would be nothing out here, but the moment his Reiatsu spiked and then completely vanished, dread filled their stomachs and worry entered their hearts. He was a member of their squad after all, they cared for each other and served as brothers-in-arms.
After progressing a good distance in, a wet squelch and a pattering of quiet dripping sounds beneath their feet brought their attention to whatever they had just put their feet into.
Bringing the light of their torches down so that the ground below them would be lit up with the glowing orange light, they stared at what exactly they had stood in.
Eyes widened in absolute horror as they stared, motionless, at the giant, growing puddle of dark-red liquid.
"What the fuck! I-is that blood!?" The tallest of the two swore as they gazed, unblinking, at the blood-soaked dirt and fallen leaves under their feet. Neither of them could find any other words at that moment as they watched dumbly as the crimson stained the exposed, white Tabi fitted to their feet, with their mouths agape.
Looking around, the short, drunk Shinigami soon noticed the steady pattern of splashing drops of blood falling in the approximate centre of the puddle. He followed the maroon trail upwards to find what and where the descending drips were coming from. The moment when he found it he fell straight onto his ass, his body and mind stuck in a state of complete shock as he stared at the pale body of their friend, hanging by the throat, right above them.
Seeing the shorter man fall down right beside him the taller man turned to look at said person with a raised eyebrow and a worried look still on his face. He saw said man openly gaping at something above them, his face having gotten significantly paler and also looking like he was about to empty the contents of his stomach right onto the leaves scattered around them. He followed the sitting man's gaze and looked up.
"Oh dear Kami.. A-Abukara-san!" Now both men were staring at the pale corpse of the friend they were drinking with not even five minutes ago. His throat was slashed open and blood was steadily pouring out of the partially severed neck, completely drenching the entire front of the dead man's Shihakushō in his essential, red, body fluid. The shouting of their friend's name was a futile effort no matter how much he wished it would help, the only thing the suspended carcass of their now deceased friend did was swing slightly.
"W-who!? Who the fuck did this!?" At the very moment he finished screaming out his question three bright-red lines flickered to life above a branch right next to Akahito's corpse. They were shaped in a triangular formation and were aimed directly at the forehead of the yelling man. "Huh? Wha-" Was all he could get out before an extremely-bright flash of blue engulfed his vision, killing the man instantly.
The drunken man watched as the fiery bolt of blue light collided with the taller man's head. At the moment of contact the head of his friend exploded in a shower of gore, bone and grey matter, chunks of his skull and the flesh wrapped around it flying past and landing on the soft dirt with a sickening, splatter sound.
The short, intoxicated Shinigami could do nothing but watch as the blood contained within the male's head showered down on him. Several spots landing in his open mouth, staining his tongue with the taste of iron. The new victim of the unknown aggressor could make no noise as his headless body slumped to the ground momentarily after the intracranial contents sprayed across the ground and his squad mate. The impromptu torch he was holding fell right onto the leaf litter that covered the forest floor and the fire quickly began to spread amongst the new fuel source.
At the sight of the smouldering, charred and cauterised stump of a neck, the inebriated man ended up spinning around onto all fours and hunched over to instigate and ease the process of vomiting out the bile and liquid contents of his gut. Tears started streaming down his face as he slowly tried to crawl away, scared and sobbing, from the abhorrently horrendous scene before him, his only light forgotten and his two closest mates dead.
SHING
He had only managed to get a few short metres away when he heard the distinct sound of a blade being withdrawn from its sheath. Turning his head around to look behind him he saw that the small fire was now growing into a incredible conflagration. But, positioned in front of that was the silhouette of an very large, distinctly male body. He looked easily half a foot taller than Abukara as he stood there, holding the blade of his violently decapitated comrade and just stared at it.
A twig snapped under the mortified Shinigami's hand, causing the unfamiliar arrival's head to twist in his direction. A short gasp escaped his lips and he started hastily crawling away, the sharp stones and broken sticks jabbing into his palms as he tried to make his way out of the woods. He could hear nothing behind him as he tried to make his way back to the camp and just as he was about to stand, he felt the cold steel of the Zanpakutō being driven through his spine.
His legs collapsed from under him and he unceremoniously slammed face-first into the dirt as his spine was severed completely around the halfway point of his back, the pain pulsating through his body's nervous-system was so great, the only sound he could make was a croak, as darkness filled his vision.
When he felt the person who had run him through with his dead friend's Zanpakutō grab the front of his face with a large hand, fingers positioned under his chin, and start pulling. He did the only thing he could do in his position of imminent death. Try scream and hope for the safety of the others that they would hear it.
"RRRRUUUNNN-AAKKKHH!" His screams of warning were cut short as the skin surrounding his neck ripped and the muscles and tendons snapped under the growing tension, followed immediately by a rapid succession of grotesque pops and cracks as the drunk's spine and head were forcefully removed from his impaled carcass, then to be held aloft in the yellow glow of the growing inferno he had been getting away from.
There was absolute silence all-throughout the encampment of Shinigami soldiers except for the occasional crackle from the raging fire in the centre of it all. All the men, intoxicated and not, stood at attention looking over in the direction that the ear-piercing screech had come from. From where they were all standing, they could clearly see the bright glow from the flourishing forest fire, but none could feel the Reiatsu of the group of three unseated members that had been positioned closest to said fire.
It was because all eyes were focused solely on the increasing inferno that they all missed the mass of flesh that had been thrown right over their heads like a flimsy ragdoll, until it had already landed in the middle of the primary circle of flames.
An explosion of splintered, half-ignited wood, torrid ash and burning embers sprayed into the air. The scalding chunks of hot debris flew through the air, several pieces colliding with an few unlucky Shinigami, but the majority of it landing in the short grass that they all stood on, scorching it instantly, and on closest tents, setting them ablaze instantaneously.
The startled and shouting Death Gods set about trying to put them out as well as any other fires that had sprung up from the spontaneous eruption of burnt wood. Though many stood, unable to avert their eyes from what actually caused it.
The headless cadaver of previously screaming Shinigami lay there, the clothing on his person quickly turning to ash in the searing heat and somebody's Zanpakutō impaled through his trunk. The pink skin underneath now changing to a deep ebony, as the festering blisters caused by the flames leaked a putrid mixture of blood and pus through the cracks that formed on them, all over the charcoaling torso. The people who were brave enough to stomach watching the slow incineration of a fellow squad member were aghast with realisation.
Something was out their killing them.
"What the hell's with all the racket?!" A disgruntled voice rang out through the air, attracting the attention of those who were not current trying to put out the burning shelters. The voice came from a man of average height and build, he wore a standard Shinigami Shihakushō and had his Zanpakutō strapped into his uniform's sash. His hair was a shoulder-length brown and he sported a light dusting of dark, unkempt facial hair.
The man took his time to look around the camp after just emerging from his own personal tent. His stance was strong and commanding, but not as much so as those of the upper ranks of the Shinigami, it's steadiness was wavering though, as he took stock of the happenings around him. Several tents were on fire and the men were having trouble putting them out, the unoccupied Shinigami, who seemed to have congregated around the spilt fireplace in the middle of the camp were all looking at him with pleading expressions on their.. Scared faces? Why were the men he was in charge of acting scared by a few fires? And why were they short a few group members?
"Twelfth Seat, Fujikage-dono!" One of his comrades shouted out, while frantically running at said superior whom he had just addressed. His body language was erratic and nervous as he finally came to a stop, slightly out of breath, in front of Fujikage. The man's hand was twitching over the hilt of his blade as if expecting somebody to attack him at any moment.
"Tell me what happened and what's going on!" Fujikage's voice coming through strong as he ordered the man to answer, his tired mind cleared and became focused at seeing the urgency of the soldier before him. The unseated member replied in a quick bow and wisely answered straight away.
"Sir! Three division members have disappeared from the camp! So far, w-we know one is dead, but we don't know about the remaining two, Sir!" The man got out. The twelfth seat was quite obviously shocked by this revelation and proceeded to ask his next round of questions at the still bowing man.
"Do we know what or where it is? Because I can't sense any foreign Reiatsu's nearby. And how do you know that only one of our men have been killed so far?" He asked, doing a quick sweep of the area for any signatures that may prove hostile or alien but came up short and also curious as to why only one person had been confirmed dead.
"No, Sir, we don't know what it is yet and we know that it has killed because one of the men's body's was thrown into the middle-most fire while we were distracted." Fujikage's eyebrows quickly shot up at hearing this, but were creased back together in frustration soon after, not wanting to demoralise his unit any further. They were under attack from something and they didn't know who or what it was attacking them, if he didn't get his subordinates under control and calm they would all be sitting ducks.
Looking up and around him he could see people finally putting out the last of the fires that had popped up. He also suddenly noticed the disgusting stench of burning meat and flesh hanging in the air around their heads.
Before he could announce any proper orders a pain-filled scream broke the tense atmosphere.
All heads spun in its direction to investigate why somebody was screaming in agony, or rather, had now stopped screaming.
Everybody stared at the person seemingly floating two feet off the ground, blood steadily flowing out of the centre of his chest, right were his heart was. His arms were limp at his side, his blade still sheathed snugly at his hip, indicating to everyone that he had not seen his killer coming or even been ready to fend them off. But that was the thing, they still could not see any sign of the being that had just killed the man, aside from him floating without reason. That was until Fujikage noticed the elongated protrusions of blood jutting out of the core of the Shinigami's body.
"It's still there! Everybody draw your Zanpakutō and be ready to defend yourselves!" Fujikage ordered everybody, drawing his own Zanpakutō, as they watched the dead and limp soul being dropped face-first onto the saturated ground, eliciting a sharp crack of a nose breaking from the fall. Fujikage was staring at the hovering, twin, blade-shaped smears of crimson ichor pointed at the ground right next to corpse of their friend and comrade.
Everything was silent for a while as they all stared at apparently nothing, only the heightened pulsating of blood in peoples ears and the sizzle of scorching flesh could be heard as they waited in anticipation for something to happen again. The Ninth Division's twelfth seat keeping a keen eye glued to the floating smear of red at all times. It was like a standoff of some sorts, each party waiting for the other to move or even twitch, so they could begin the coming onslaught.
So, when the blood suddenly disappeared into the night and all vestiges of the being's presence were gone was when the squad sprung into action, each having noticed the dripping, red anomaly that had been sitting there before them. Each man of the unit of Shinigami moved to their practised position and took up their suited role.
Much to the discontent of Twelfth Seat Fujikage, their front line warriors -which happened to be the new recruits from the Eleventh Division- were all still partially drunk, their movements were sloppy and uncoordinated as they bunched up to stand in front of and protect the three Kidō users that he had brought along with him to even out the balance between head-on fighters and ranged Kidō support.
Joining onto the trio of inebriated men, Fujikage carefully watched his surrounding environment. They were in much more peril than they originally thought. This being was capable of completely concealing himself and rendering all that training they had done during their time at the Shin'ō Academy useless. What good did training and experience do when you couldn't even see or sense your target coming in any way? There was still the possibility of hearing them, but so far, naught but a rustle nor cry had been produced by their clandestine executioner.
That was until the sound of a distant buzzing was heard in some indiscernible direction, making the huddle of armed Shinigami go tense with anticipation, the grip on each Zanpakutō tightly marginally as they readied themselves for what was to inevitably come.
As the noise grew louder and it became more clear as to which direction it was coming from, the battlement of flesh shifted appropriately, turning to face the noise head-on.
At the front of the formation was one of the men who was closer to passing out from the copious amounts of alcohol they had ingested and was struggling to properly stay upright, let alone concentrate on the task at hand. So when the loud, vicious and metallic, humming sound drew close, he had only a mere fraction of a second to react in any way to save himself. The man unwisely chose to start blinking, right before his upper-half felt sudden weightlessness and he observed as the ground came speeding towards his face.
After the sound of many dense thumps of numerous objects falling to the ground, the man's mind finally caught up with what had just transpired, his Zanpakutō now forgotten.
He struggled to try push his body up to a standing position, but instead just ending up flipping himself over onto his back wondering why his legs seemed to cease any and all function.
Currently capable of only propping himself up on his elbows, the intoxicated man looked down at his legs, or rather, where his legs used to be.
Where his two longest limbs used to be, was only empty space and blood drenched dirt. The man let out a loud, ear-piercing scream upon coming to the realisation that he had been completely bifurcated, horizontally, through his trunk. His person now in two, near perfect halves. The lower half now lay strewn across the ground three feet away from him. He stared at the detached limbs, his face quickly draining of it natural colour to become a pasty white, while his brain tried to react appropriately to the morbid phenomenon that had just happened to him.
The drunk's vision was quickly fading and his brain was shutting down from the lack of blood flowing through his veins. As a last ditched effort to attempt to save his life he reached down to try drag himself to reconnect the lower half, but instead ending up grabbing onto a thick, slimy, bundle of ropey flesh. Lifting up the unknown object to look at it, he felt all hope finally slip away as he stared, eyes half-lidded, at his own blood and dirt-covered intestinal track, which was now unwinding itself and spilling out of his abdominal cavity right onto the crimson coated grass they he lay on. He died not a second later, not seeing one of his drinking partners in the exact same state as him, with the exception of the bisection happening just below his sternum, instead of above the pelvis, like him, resulting in a more or less, immediate death.
Yoruichi sat in her cat form perched atop the tiled rooftop of the house belonging to her personal friend, Shiba Kūkaku.
She had told the group of kids, after finding no plausible way of getting into the Seireitei without alerting them to their presence anymore than they already have, that they would be going to find her close friend and past associate to help them. Upon acquiring the location of said person after many hours of endless 'questioning' of very reluctant residents, they had begun to make their way towards the woman's home.
It was dusk by the time they had arrived at the rather extravagant and certainly unusual entrance to Shiba Kūkaku's abode. When they reached what the group of four teenagers assumed was the front door to the place and had been greeted by two burly, largely-muscled men, whom looked nearly identical except for slight facial and clothing differences. Yoruichi knew these two as the personal house guards belonging to Kūkaku and the last of the Shiba family.
The two guards, Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko, had instantly recognised the small, black feline leading the four young adults towards them and much to the surprise of those four, the two large men had greeted Yoruichi with manners suitable for someone who was nothing short of royalty. Quite the opposite of how they had come to know the onyx cat to act like.
So it was now, after they had finally met the mysterious Kūkaku, after they had come up with a plan with the woman's help, that Yoruichi sat staring into the night's sky with a dark scowl planted across her animal face, her eyes filled with worry and fear as well as great levels of unrest.
They had travelled a great distance from the spot the six of them had originally entered the Soul Society from and Yoruichi knew that there would be near to no chance of her being able to find him in a place of this size and magnitude. Through their day's travels she had continually been scoping out with her senses and keeping tabs on each and every notable source of Reiatsu. The most prominent being a large mass of Reiatsu being produced from about a dozen or so Shinigami, in the direction of a fairly remote part of the massive forests that were spread throughout the Rukongai. Most likely a squad from some division sent to deal with a large number of hollow appearances.
The reason for doing so was to keep a metaphorical eye on Spiritual Pressures around her, so that if Ichigo really did start hunting, she would know where he was when the Reiatsu's started disappearing. Or at least their general direction. She was inwardly praying that it wouldn't happen.
The light clacking of a pair of wooden Geta broke the calm silence that had fallen along with the day's sun. Turning her head slightly to acknowledge the presence of the new arrival, Yoruichi picked out the white skirt that her friend Kūkaku was wearing, though, she already had known she was coming to sit next to her the moment the large-breasted woman had walked out of the warm security of her house.
"What's got you so dark and gloomy, Yoruichi? You're not usually someone to get anxious about sneaking around in the Seireitei." The dark-haired woman asked, genuine concern edging its way into her voice. "Unless it's something else? Like the kids downstairs? Or..?" She finished her sentence there and let it hang around for her friend to finish off.
Yoruichi rolled her golden eyes at the thought of her being worried about sneaking around and turned her head completely to face her the woman next to her.
"You of all people should know that I don't have a problem with 'sneaking around,' Kūkaku. And no, it isn't about the kids." 'At least not the four she knows about.' She mentally added on, not wanting to tell her about the fifth person if she didn't have to.
"Then what's got you all sour, huh? We could be splitting a jug of Sake right now! But instead, we're sitting out here in the dark, staring at nothing but trees!" Kūkaka said as a vein pulsated on her forehead, barely containing herself from shouting at her Neko-friend's apparently reasonless mood. Yoruichi just continued to look at the bandage-wrapped female for a moment, before she sighed and shook her head in exasperation.
"Nothing.. Just a bad feeling I guess." She responded in a huff as she got up onto all fours. Kūkaku remained stationary, but with a light scowl on her face as if trying to figure something out.
"You mean like a horrible sense of foreboding?" Yoruichi immediately stopped her walk towards the door below them and turned to stare at the woman, with wide eyes, as Kūkaku continued. "Like a itching at the back of your mind, as if something is trying to get under your skin or maybe get you out of it?"
Still stunned in place by the accuracy of her deduction, Yoruichi just nodded mutely.
"Hah! So It's not something that the Sake is doing to me!" Kūkaku half-heartedly chuckled. "I thought it was odd that the moment I come outside I start to feel like that. Turns out it wasn't my drunken imagination! So I guess that big group disappearing Reiatsu's hasn't been made up by my mind?" She asked with a raised eyebrow as she stared at her dear friend, who now had a shocked look on her cat features.
"Disappearing Reiatsu's?" Yoruichi voiced quietly, while extending her senses once more to check on the people that she had been keeping tabs on. She was startled to find that largest mass had declined sharply in the few minutes that she had been lost in thought and busy talking to Kūkaku, that it was now under half the size that it once was and the scant few emotions leaking through their Reiatsu were extremely frightened, confused and seemed to be devoid of any and all hope.
"I take it by the look of concentration on your face that you've felt it by now and that I'm not imagining things?" Yoruichi did not reply. Instead, Kūkaku heard her mumbling something under her breath about somebody called "Ichigo." She knew there weren't any Ichigos currently residing in her house, or even one in the Seireitei that Yoruichi might know. At least not from memory. So, was this "Ichigo" somebody who had come along with them but hadn't stayed with them? Judging by Yoruichi's scrunched up face and slightly worried look in her eyes, she might be closer with that guess than she thinks.
'Damn it Ichigo! what are you doing?! If you do this you're going to be tracked down and killed!' She spoke inwardly, not realising she had mumbled a couple of those words, but noticing that there was yet another drop in the conglomeration of Spiritual Pressure. 'It's only a matter of time before Yama-Jii sends someone after you Ichigo-kun.. I just hope you make it through all this.' Her thoughts went from agitated to pleading, as she silently wished that the orange-haired pre-adult would survive the whole ordeal, should it come to that. If not for her, then for the sake of his real family, hell, even for the sake of his Yautja family would be better than nothing.
There was no proper way of telling what would ensue should "Mother Masa" find out that her surrogate son has been killed by the very thing his real sister and father were. They didn't know the Yautja's capabilities or how powerful they are. They're just as much of a incalculable factor as Ichigo is.
So, that was about 3.5k of violence. I hope it was enjoyable.
Last chapter you mentioned I was more than in the right to write graphic stuff and that I had "okay" to write it because it was an AVP cross. I was more wondering about your personal thoughts on it, but what I had been told was sufficient enough to give me the idea that you were all good with it. So I hope this chapter sated your needs and want for violence. :D
REVIEWS:
Mas2009: due to work and personal obligations I'm unable to update as much as I would like, though I try to get them out asap. I don't know why you think Renji is dead. I mentioned that Chad MIGHT be dead in this story but that was more like: he's dead to me and wont be brought up at all.
hornet07: It's what I'm aiming for haha :D
Zaralann: Since I started this before I had caught up with the manga (before the whole Zanpakuto, hollow and Juha bach mess with ichigo) I will be going on the basis that he was born part shinigami and part quincy, (I saw a spoiler so I knew about his mom but not juha bach) with a REAL Zanpakuto and since he didn't go through the shattering shaft he never became part hollow.
Apocalypse Legionaire 117: It will be Ichigo-centric but I will change point of views a lot and will keep you up to date with the other's activities as shown in this chapter.
Lord-of-Change: I loath when people make Aizen seem like the All-seeing, omnipotent god, who can't be bested with any plan and has the world in the palm of his hand and within his web of deception and I had Never planned to make him as so. Aside him planning out the new substitutes path like in canon. I'll tell you now: Aizen thinks Ichigo died with his Mother and the Grand Fisher and has NO knowledge of the Yautja or Xenomorphs. Thanks for the review :D
talonjay: read previous.
Kaka-she Gladiator: It's not everyday that you get someone saying they LIKE cliffhangers hahaha. And Masa will be mentioned throughout the story and will appear further in with some other Yautja (probably around the Ichigo/Kenpachi fight) And again many thanks for the picture! :]
Harbinger Of Kaos: To answer the whole race issue read the reply to Zaralann (5 reviews up) Also I have wanted to involve Rangiku in the pairing from the very start of this for the very same reasons (that she is under used) but with the direction I'm heading I don't see any feasible way of doing it WITHOUT forcing it and making it seem greatly unnatural.
ShadowCat444: Thank you for pointing out that error! Haha, the moment I read that I made a mistake that someone was nice enough to point out, I dropped everything and fixed it :D Thanks for the review and the feedback.
voidblade6: I apologise, I do try to avoid going back at all, tis quite annoying. And I cannot say that I do, but I can imagine the effort required to harvest said blood. Love your reviews as always.
TeninChwang: Nope, not at all. however, you're not wrong entirely. Yautja will not Hunt: The sick, the old, the young (children) and women. Unless they are attacked by those people. However, fully-armed shinigami men in their prime are Perfect game. Also, have you not seen any of the Predator movies? because killing people at night, while invisible, without you seeing them coming is kind of their thing..