Hello everyone. So first of all, someday I will learn how to create a page break line for the Author's Notes in word and have them show up on the site. Any help would be nice and appreciated! I'm hoping this chapter will be a little more dark and suspenseful. If I fail at this and it is terrible please, I beg you, tell me nicely so that I can fix it. Also, would anyone mind a few fluffier chapters in between? I have a few ideas for things like Shiro meeting the family and stuff. I dunno, it's still being sorted and filed in my head. Ok I'll shut up now! On with the show! Er…chapter!

Warning: Has NOT been beta tested.

Chapter 4

Clacks from shoes hitting tiled floor fell into rhythm with the soft, irregular moans and scuffs that echoed out from the rooms lining the hall. Some rooms stayed silent as the clacking went by, either from fear, sleep, or the inability to speak. The long hallway's lights grew dimmer as it went on. It became almost hard to see after the sharp turn through a door into the extended wing, but this didn't matter. The source of the clacking did not need the lights' guidance to get to his destination. He had memorized these halls long ago and even more so where his favorite patients resided.

As he walked the walls seemed to age. Wall paper was slowly stripping itself away from its home. Cracks created intricate patterns through the stripes the wall paper had provided. The floor below was chipped in many places making the tiles no longer line up in straight lines. Windowless doors with heavy locks lined the walls on both sides; each one labeled with a unique number that did not seem to follow a pattern. These rooms were quieter than the ones in the main hall. A few whimpers or scratches along with the occasional voice could be heard, but not much else.

The clacking stopped at a door near the end of the hall. The lights overhead flickered slightly and gave the silence found a more eerie than calm feeling. The door was cold steel, and had been reinforced with extra steel strips that had been bolted across it. A padlock and deadbolt were visible above the normal lock on the door's handle. A small slide away panel revealed a window that gave the man a look into the patient's room. Bolted in, above the window, was a small, gothic style number four, which stood for both the room and the patient's number. The man smiled as he looked into the small room at his favorite experiment.

He continued to smile as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. One by one the locks gave way, but the young man inside the room had no reaction to the sound. Slowly, the door was pulled open. The young man inside was pale and stood on a thin frame. Jet black hair fell to his shoulders.

"Good morning Four."

The patient stood from his place on the bed and bowed, "Good morning Dr. Aizen." The tone lacked emotion. Blank, emerald green eyes looked at the doctor and waited patiently.

"How is my favorite patient today?"

"I am fine sir."

Aizen smiled at the young man who stood before him; one Ulquiorra Schiffer, his most favorite patient and adoptive son.

Having been abandoned at Las Noches hospital by his father, Ulquiorra quickly became Dr. Aizen's ward. His mother had battled with depression during his younger years. Of course then he never quite understood what that was. Ulquiorra could tell his mom was sad but could not understand why. Trying to be a loving son, he did everything he could to try and make her smile. Her smile had always looked sad though. However, he never expected to watch his mother stab her heart one night when he was supposed to be sleeping. His father, unable to handle the pain of losing his wife, turned to Ulquiorra for release. Crying meant a backhand to the face for the young boy. A call for attention meant a burn from a cigarette or a cut to the skin. Wanting help made everything black.

On his seventh birthday, the first one since his mother's death, he tried to remind his father of the special day.

"Daddy? Um…it's my birthday today. C-can I get a cake? I can go to the store a-and get it myself. Please Daddy?" Ulquiorra carefully asked. He knew a request could easily make his father angry, but this was his birthday, and to him if he did not have a cake, he could not get a wish.

"What the hell you want a cake fer?" his father slurred. The man reeked of alcohol and smoke creating a smell that resembled the corner of a rundown bar.

"I wanna make a wish, a wish for mommy." Ulquiorra immediately regretted his words when he saw the sick grin on his father's face.

"Wanna make a wish fer yer precious Mommy huh? Fine, I'll grant ya yer wish," his father chuckled and left the trembling boy. When Ulquiorra's father came back, he was met with a bat to his head and woke up alone in a hospital bed under the care of one Dr. Sosuke Aizen.

At first Ulquiorra refused to talk to the doctor; his smile reminding the young boy of his father. Seeing potential in the young boy however, Dr. Aizen would not give up. The boy no longer had connections to the outside world. It would be easy to make him disappear and once he was gone, Aizen could do anything he wanted with the boy. All he needed was the right way to gain his trust. Find out what the boy wanted most and give it to him. And Aizen could do it. Nothing was above his power.

"Do you hurt?" Aizen asked Ulquiorra one day. The boy just nodded. It was the biggest reaction he had gotten out of the boy in weeks. "Do you want the pain to go away?" Again the only response was a nod. "I can make the pain go away. Make you not feel anymore. Wouldn't that make life easier? Without feeling, you could do anything without having to worry about the consequences. The pain over your mother would be forgotten." At this, Ulquiorra perked up and Aizen knew he had the naive boy right where he needed him.

One operation and slight brain scrambling later and Ulquiorra was nothing more than a logical thinking shell of his former self. Yes the pain was gone, but so was any emotion. He reacted on nothing but what the brain thought was most right to do. This made the young man calm but also dangerous. If the brain said run, he ran. If the brain said fight, he fought. If the brain said kill, he killed. And nothing needed a second though.

From there, Aizen tainted the boy with his own ideology through the years. He successfully created a follower; someone willing to do anything and everything to please his master. This could be something as simple as fetching his coffee, to sampling a potentially harmful new trial drug.. Ulquiorra was loyal to one, and that one was Dr. Aizen. And in exchange, the boy was cared for as a son.

"I have a new task for you. One that will allow you into the outside world once again." Aizen started.

"I have no need to see the outside. There is no reason."

"But there is. It is something you must do for me. Do you remember what I taught you about threats Ulquiorra?"

The young man gave the man a blank stare and a nod, "Threats are to be eliminated in any way necessary. Threats harm what need to be done. They are nothing more than trash." Aizen smiled at the young man's answer. He had learned well. "Is there a threat you wish me to eliminate?"

Aizen nodded and smiled, "Do you remember meeting 87?" A nod. "And you know what he has done correct?" Again, a silent nod was the only response. "He is your target."

"What is the point of tracking down trash such as him? He is nothing more than a beast."

"A beast is exactly what he is Ulquiorra. Or more specifically, a man made demon. The sickness may make him weak, but what flows through his veins makes him strong. Anger will make him uncontrollable. Revenge will make the man come for me. The urge to feed will take over his mind. Do you understand what I am saying Ulquiorra?"

"87 must be swiftly dealt with. You and the research must be protected. 87 is not meant to be in society. I understand what must be done. The experiment must die."

"No. Not if it can be helped. The boy is valuable. He is unfinished. Bring him back alive if you can. However, you can use any force necessary."

"Why? It makes no sense to leave the experiment alive. He is a failure. Failures are trash. Trash is to be disposed of," Ulquiorra tried to argue. Blank eyes trying to show some kind of confusion stared at the man across from him.

"He is not a failure Ulquiorra. As I said, he is unfinished. There is more to be done with him," a sly smile crossed Aizen's lips. Ulquiorra's expression didn't change but he nodded as if he understood.

"As you wish, Dr. Aizen."

Aizen smiled again, "That's a good boy. Be ready to leave in 3 days. I will have everything you need." He rose from the seat he had taken during the conversation and headed for the door. Ulquiorra remained still as he left. He continued to stare blankly at the walls as the deadbolts and locks were put back into place. He didn't even react to being once again left alone.

Aizen couldn't help but keep smiling as he walked down the halls back to the main wing of his floor. His pet would soon be home and ready for more experiments. He would have his perfect guard dog. One that acted on nothing but instinct alone and obeyed his owner's every command. He would break 87 just as he had so many others. The only difference would be that 87 would be successful. He would not die like all the others had to the final treatments. The boy was strong in mind and as soon as the insanity kicked in, 87 would be able to control it. And Aizen, well, he would be able to abuse and use it to his own advantage. He only hoped his favorite follower would succeed in time. If the insanity set in sooner than he expected, and the right drugs and teachings were not administered, the transformation would fail. The entire work would fall apart and 87 would need to be killed.

A small knock made Shiro bolt awake. Looking around at his surroundings he relaxed back into the bed. He was no longer at that hell hole. He remembered, he was with his brother. And his brother had punched him. Well that was one hell of a homecoming.

"Hey Ogichi…I mean Shiro. Sorry, it is going to take me a bit to get used to that. How ya feeling?" Ichigo came in and checked the machines hooked to Shiro. Turning most of them off, he waited for a reply.

"Fine concinderin' ya punched me," Shiro rasped out with a lopsided smile.

"Sorry bout that…" Ichigo mumbled as he turned off the last of the machine Shiro was hooked up to for the night. Only then did he get s good look at his brother and noticed the red smears across his face and staining his fingers. "Shiro…what is on your face? It looks like blood."

"Blood?" Shiro touched his fingers to his mouth and felt the dry blood caked there. He saw the blood and what looked to be small pieces of flesh on his hands and under his nails. "I have no idea how this happen'd Ichi." What had he done last night? There was no way he could have gotten out of all those machines and yet the evidence suggested otherwise. Maybe he had just got a bloody nose during the night. It wouldn't have been anything new, but at the same time it didn't explain the flesh. He looked up to Ichigo who looked just as puzzled.

"Nothing looks to be disturbed. You must have bled through your nose during the night and somehow got it on your hands. It isn't uncommon." Ichigo said, more trying to reassure himself more than Shiro.

"Ichigo! Ichigo!"

Ichigo sighed at the voice calling his name. "He really knows nothing of how to be quiet. Shiro chuckled. "I'm with Ogi- Shiro, Grimm."

With a few steps, Grimmjow entered the small patient room. He was drying his hands as if he had just used the restroom and had a slight sickly looking look to his face. The small circles suggested the man was still tired. "Found out what all tha' racket was last night. Looks like a dog an' a raccoon got inta in our backyard. Dog mutilated the thing. Have no idea how another dog got inta the yard though," Grimmjow scratched his head "Normally that mutt of yours would bark if that happened. Not ta mention, I can't find any holes in the fence."

If Shiro's face could get any paler, it did. The blood, the flesh, the dead animal; it was coming together. But he couldn't have really done that could he? As Ichigo said, none of the machines were disturbed. Besides why would he be hunting down animals like that? No, it couldn't have been him. Sure, he had some disturbing, and sickening thoughts at times, but just because the images were vivid didn't mean he would ever do anything like that. At that moment a broken cackle rang out softly through his head. So lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice his brother trying to tell him he could go clean up in the shower and that breakfast would be ready for him. He didn't notice the other two leave the room nor the sound of the door clicking shut behind them.

Sitting there he stared at his hands. He licked his lips and tasted the dried blood around his mouth. It sent a shock through his body of pure instinct and ecstasy. He felt it take over slightly as his soul cried out for more. He shook his head to try and clear his thoughts, but the taste or desire would not leave him. Just what was wrong with him? What had Los Noches made him become?

So that's it for now. I know it took me forever to get something up here. I'm really sorry if it is terrible. Please tell me if it is and where I could make this story better. I love constructive criticism. If people are actually interested, I really don't want to give up on it. So let me know if you are one of the few reading this and still want more. Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, subscribed and anything like that. It does really help keep the idea going and the fingers typing.

Oh also, about Ulquiorra's last name. I know there is another Romanization of it that I think may even be the more common one. But I like this one more. I'm not sure what one is perfectly cannon though to be honest…