A/N: This is sort of inspired by the film The Conjuring, which goes to say this whole thing is devoid of originality.

Chapter Two: Infestation

This was rest-assured way beyond the degree of his experiences. Without having to understand more, Ichigo knew he was ready to give up without even trying to help. In the course of his life, he had had his fair share of paranormal encounters, had found himself in many strange situations. But never had he ever dealt with something this…bad. To start with, this entity did not owe its nature to some prior existence; this thing had been roaming the soil since time immemorial, long before humans had started to exist—or so the books said.

"Listen; I have always made it a point to do something nice for a set of people at least once a day. Sadly, this is not your day. However, you might wanna hear what little knowledge I have of this. You can start with the questions now." Ichigo apologized.

Szayel and Lilynette shivered perceptibly. Consorting with these fiends was the last thing Ichigo had in mind, and yet looking at them, as if feeling their terror, he could not help but adapt some kind of commiseration. And then Ulquiorra stepped forward,

"Kurosaki, every time just before dawn at exactly 3 a.m. on my wall clock, I hear tapping sounds against my bedroom door, continuously for maybe an hour. They come in threes, no more no less. I have no idea what it means but I'm sure it means something."

It was the Shinigami's turn to shiver. In the past, he had watched a number of horror flicks, and the ones that had indelibly latched themselves in his brain were those which had involved demonic possessions. Whether he cared to admit it or not, these films had scared the living shit out of him. If they had been all about nasty specters and apparitions none of them would have warranted sleepless nights. For obvious reasons, he was alone in this reflection, as there was no way these Arrancars would have gained access to this lore. Nevertheless he heard himself asking thus,

"Ulquiorra, do you know what a religion is?"

"Yes, it's this ritualistic practice humans subscribe to, just so to avail themselves of what you might call paradise."

"You're about half right. In the human world, Christianity is one of the most prevalent religions. I don't know much, since I myself do not practice it, except that the Christians hold the middle of the day—that is 3 p.m. in the afternoon—most holy. I am impelled to conclude that an evil force, the sole assailant of Christianity itself, is endeavoring to prove something by professing itself at the exact opposite of that sacred hour, 3 a.m.. To put it bluntly, you guys are in deep shit."

Tesla and Halibel held themselves tightly. It was easy to tell horror, or at least what felt like it, had conveyed itself through the Shinigami's short narrative. And so Starrk surreptitiously strode closer to Ichigo, perhaps fancying his sneaky behavior unobserved when he loomed about six fucking feet and one inch in height. At that, Grimmjow closed in behind them, his breath hissing at the back of Ichigo's neck. He was too close for comfort and, as chance would have it, he was heard hissing,

"Keep your distance, Wolf. That's a first warning."

"You're one to talk." Starrk retorted.

A wave of frustration washed over the Shinigami. If truth be told, it wasn't what one might call being a petulant bastard; it was called being fucking realistic. This wasn't a convenient time to act like a middle-schooler and yet these dimwits appeared to have woken up this morning to all at once decide it was high time to be immature for life. And then all of sudden, Halibel swooned. Within seconds, hysterics seized Szayel,

"My god! She's at it again!" The mad scientist was looking as mad as any scientist could go.

Jiruga lunged forward at her but, because Ichigo had been standing behind her all this time, the shinigami managed to intercept her first before she could land on the hard floor. Holding her in her arms seemed to give Ichigo a warm feeling. Except that Tercera's eyes were wide open, this pretty much looked like a mild case of dehydration. At any rate, Ichigo heaved her up and was now carrying her off her feet.

"Hand her to me, Kurosaki." Starrk, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow declared at the same time, in the same apprehensive intonation. Surprised at their own impulses, the three glared at one another before their postures loosened up.

"Oh, be my guest, Starrk." Grimmjow said as if changing his mind, surrendering both his palms up the air.

"Nah. She's yours."

"You offered first, prat."

"Maybe Ulquiorra here will take care of her."

"I've just remembered she's taller than me and perhaps heavier. I don't wish to drop her accidentally."

Ichigo had started the day with a pocketful of patience, but not surprisingly both his pockets were empty now. In this occasion, the most logical thing to do was to ignore the three imbeciles because that seemed to be the only action that suited his temper. In his mind, he was damned well wishing these three wouldn't spurt out the precise reason why they so wanted Tercera Espada out of his arms. Thankfully, there was a savior,

"Over here, Shinigami. I know where her room is." Jiruga offered.

"Fine. But will you do me a favor? Can you stay with her until she regains consciousness? Just call us out if anything out of the ordinary happens." Ichigo instructed, delegating the woman to the tallest man in the room.

When they had gone, Tesla turned to his heels to trail his master. Apart from everyone, Octava was pacing to and fro like a woman distraught.

"Grantz, calm the fuck down." Grimmjow spat.

"Can't you see what this means? Gosh, sometimes I wish I were surrounded by people who at least read books!"

"The hell are you yapping about this time?" Starrk asked.

Szayel swept past his fellow Arrancar, only to pull his brakes right in front of the Shinigami. In one swift motion his arms were thrown around Ichigo's shoulders. If Octava wasn't going to sob in the next two seconds, Ichigo was sure some deeper form of agitation was well underway. Maybe the dude was off to jump over the window.

"This is demonic possession!" Octava concluded, the term only serving to render everyone else frantic.

"Octava, if you don't let go of the kid I'm gonna rip you a new ass!" Grimmjow had assumed his warrior stance.

But Ichigo grabbed Szayel by the shoulders in an attempt to make the dude get a hold of himself, speaking seriously though softly,

"Szayel-san, how can you be so sure of that?"

"Tercera has been walking into my quarters in the middle of the night…"

"I knew it. You two are having a dalliance. Quinto will snap your spinal column in half." Starrk concluded.

"Not that, you simpleton. You know, there was this one time when I tried to shake her awake. But she just turned slowly away, eyes closed, paying me no heed. Last night, however, I tried to snap her out of it with more force than usual… and she spoke, in a man's voice! I almost passed out of shock! In the morning she assured me she couldn't remember any of it! I couldn't yap about it openly because Jiruga would no doubt go psychotic with jealousy."

This was worse than Ichigo had initially believed. He was prepared to assume a malevolent, utterly insidious, preternatural entity was wreaking havoc in the palace. What he hadn't cared to realize was, this being was intent on gaining dominion over the inhabitants of this place. Although he was entirely clueless as to the accuracy of the facts presented in this horror film he had recently watched, Ichigo deduced it would be okay to use them as the premise to his philosophy, which he now began to explain,

"From what I can remember, there are three stages of demonic possession; Infestation, Oppression, and finally Possession. You guys have been saying there have been a number of funny and hard to explain stuff going on around here."

"Tell me about it, man. Cub-chan has been walkin'…" Grimmjow's sentence dangled unfinished in an unseen passage in his throat.

"Who is Cub-chan, if I may inquire?" Cuatro said.

"No matter. The point is, some of my fucking plushi—stuff—have been finding themselves in places they shouldn't be."

"That falls under Infestation." Ichigo concluded.

"And my not getting a moment's rest at night? How do you classify that, Kurosaki?" Cuatro asked.

"Maybe Oppression."

"So Halibel's got the worst of it." Starrk reflected. Ichigo, anxious to hear what specific torment everyone of them had to endure, felt slightly disappointed when Primera had opted to steer the subject to Tercera. The Shinigami answered,

"Arracars are technically ghosts, as far as I know. I'm not really so sure if demons are capable of using spirits/ghosts as hosts."

Silence fell on them, allowing them to pursue their separate thoughts in the matter. Indeed, it was forcing the Shinigami to think as deliberately as he had never been in the habit of doing. These people weren't his friends, but heaven knew they didn't deserve this, not now. All the same, the best, and perhaps the only, solution to this was to get a human priest. There could be no other choice. Even Urahara himself would grope around like a blind kid in a spelling bee in this situation. But then a lot of complications would arise from that. He could bet his soul not one of these Arrancars had been baptized therefore no priest in his right mind would agree to help these dudes. And that was looking past the fact that not one of them was human, so he might as well expect this predicament to untangle itself on its own… or not.

"Ichigo-chan, what are we going to do?"

"I said no first name basis, Grantz." Cuatro warned for the second time.

Ignoring Ulquiorra, the Shinigami presided, holding his breath and not really believing the depth of the abyss he was dragging himself into,

"This is gonna sound stupid, but for now there's no better action to take than to fetch a few religious articles and some paranormal investigation paraphernalia from the human world."

"I'll do it." Cuatro and Sexta volunteered in unison, not really having the least of idea as to what sort of items they were supposed to acquire.

Ichigo had to stop himself from snorting. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra getting their hands on a stack of bibles and holy water? My, that had to be worth a million bucks. He'd slit his own throat if neither of these two burst into flames if they so much as landed one glance on a holy cross. But, because the pair was obviously trying to impress him, he conceded. Before long, he was scribbling on a piece of paper the names of the objects and the places where they could be found.

"What do these stuff look like anyway?" Grimmjow asked.

"Geez, do I have to paint a damn picture or write an entire encyclopedia for you?" Nevertheless, the Shinigami went on to employ what talent in art he was endowed with.

…

The room in which he was sleeping was bare, with hardly any color besides white and gray. Ulquiorra and Grimmjow had yet to emerge from the Gargantua. It was thirty minutes past midnight but not that, nor the disturbing stillness of the night, was responsible for keeping him awake. In fact he was wondering how many minutes he had left before a disturber of peace would walk through the door and decide it would be fun to demolish the silence. Sure enough, screams could be heard from down the hallway, growing closer and closer and more hysterical. From where he was, Ichigo figured that the screaming dude, no doubt one of the male Espada, was running like his life depended on it. Well, whoever he was, his life should better depend on his running because, if not, Ichigo swore he would fucking strangle the dude for the racket he was making.

"The fuck is going on?" He muttered to himself, sitting up, just in time for his door to fly open, violently. Indeed, the damned panels were nearly shaken off their hinges.

It was Primera Espada.

Strands of hair sticking out from every direction, his eyes wide, bewildered, he swiped across the room and onto Ichigo's bed. The Shinigami hardly had the time to recognize the man. But recognizing the man was the least of his problems now, because Starrk had now wrapped an arm around his waist and was crouched behind him, as if shielding himself from something. The feel of his arm sent spikes of chill down Ichigo's spine. It didn't end there; Primera was burying his face at the back of his shoulder.

"S—some chick is in my room; on the freaking floor! S—she says she'll take me away!"

"Floor?"

"Yeah, well, I sleep on the floor 'cos Lilynette gets the bed."

"Where is Lilynette? Don't tell me you've left her."

"She—well, the chick isn't after her."

"Starrk, you should lock your door always at night." Ichigo said sternly, trying to contain himself as his heart beat in and out of his ribcage.

"There's no use in that! She ain't anything like me and you! She's pure nightmare. I can't explain; I just know she ain't normal. She says her name is Lilith."

The name sent shocks of coldness on his back. Surely, countless legends and tales had included the name in their narratives, and not one of them yielding anything favorable on account of the entity who owned it. In conclusion, Starrk was being assailed by a Succubus. As far as the teen could remember, it had taken four captain-level individuals to take this Espada down during the Winter War, after which he had been pronounced dead. In reality, Captain Kyouraku's magnanimity had extended to sparing Starrk's life. Three days following the fatal blow he had received, the Primera Espada had regained consciousness, and thereupon had promised never to antagonize Soul Society ever again. But now his strength could do nothing against what was plaguing him.

Without meaning to do it, Ichigo found himself turning around, to wrap both his arms around the trembling Primera Espada. Perhaps Kurosaki Ichigo simply meant to console this man, but when his warmth began to channel through the other, that was when it occurred to him that Coyote Starrk was—apart from terrified—lonely beyond redemption.

TBC