Witch CH.10: Dollhouse
Early in the morning as planned, they checked out of the hotel. Grimmjow managed to hold up until just about fifteen minutes from the train station, the taxi pulling over hurriedly onto the side of the road and with Renji assisting, the door was flung open and breakfast upended on the ground. Wiping his mouth with a spare handkerchief, Grimmjow straightened, "I'm fine. The queasiness has passed."
"Really?" the red headed hunter expressed doubt, seeing the other sway and catch at the door handle. "I'm fine!" Grimmjow insisted as an irritated honk from the vehicle behind them came particularly loudly. Renji waved a backhand at the car window and glowering face when it pulled hastily out into the lane again. Kurosaki's skepticism as to the police officer's state of health, growing with a text message moments later: no more interruptions, or else…
Grimmjow leaning over Renji's shoulder, read it with an under breath snarl but settled back into his seat quickly enough when they jounced over a speed bump in the parking lot of the station. The cab fares were then paid, bags unloaded and several pairs of eyes scanned the timetable. "Which one are we supposed to take?" Rangiku asked, seeing the two-hour travel time predicated for a certain one."The JR Kyudai line," Kurosaki replied.
"Ah…the two-hour one. But I see it stops in Hita. Onta is our destination."
"There's a forty-minute bus ride from Hita to that other place. From there we'll split up and look for that house you described. It's a small town so I'm sure it won't be all that difficult to find. While we're doing that, I want Abarai to stay with Jeagerjaques at the inn."
"Now wait a minute—" Grimmjow began indignantly.
"Sounds good to me," the red head said cheerfully. Rangiku slapped him on the back and when he turned to her with a confused look on his face, she shrugged, "you deserved it."
~~~*~~~
The scenery passed by in a blur, cups of steaming coffee were ordered and when drunk, were lamented upon for the gourmet fare provided by Hitsugaya for the office. "There's no place like Raven's 13. There's no place like Raven's 13…" Renji was heard muttering like a magic chant over his paper cup. Kurosaki took a sip, pronounced it edible and during the passage of two hours, drank more than one. Rangiku, maybe smarter, had English breakfast tea instead, clucking her tongue over the grimaces sported by her drowsy, suffering companions.
Rukia for the sake of caffeine simply drank half and then left the rest to turn cold and leave a condensation ring in the cup-holder. Her eyes went from Kurosaki's focused gaze on the Beppu newspaper purchased at the station, to Grimmjow's nausea-ridden face. Then, she sighed and rested her arm against the windowsill and watched until her eyelids drooped and sooner than she would've liked, a rough hand was shaking her shoulder, waking her up.
"We've arrived in Hita," it was Kurosaki, "get up."
Her limbs felt stiff from the hard fabric seat, and she stretched, yawning as she did so. The others were already moving toward the front, luggage gathered including her bag being carried by him. They got off at the platform in single-file, conferred a few minutes then started off for the bus depot located on the other side of the station. Before long, they were traveling again and Grimmjow-who hadn't been sick the entire train ride over-held a paper bag at the ready.
~~~*~~~
"Man! This is a small town—more like tiny!" Renji exclaimed. The hunters had gotten off at the small metal overhang and sign proclaiming: Onta, population: 2,000. From there they could see several little streets branching off the main one and curving into slight hills where houses lined the way. Not a person could be seen about the market square or at the Akatsuki inn where apparent vacancy was assured and late reservations were even welcome.
A few careful inquiries and veiled observations established a plethora of insinuative accusations against the town's famous resident. Kanae Oomori and her husband Takahiro-now deceased; had moved to the town ten years ago. Since then mighty peculiar things-in the words of the innkeeper, Sojiro, had transpired. Enough to warrant the exhumation of Takahiro's body just to make well and sure he was still buried.
"Apparently," Kurosaki said thoughtfully, "game hunters in the surrounding woodland heard the old woman talking to somebody. They said a voice even answered her in the same recognizable tone of an Osakan accent." He and the girls stood in the square, outside of the inn. "Creepy," Rangiku muttered, glancing around and catching the slightest movement of a curtain being drawn back by a fast hand.
"I'd heard of the Oomori living dolls. My father had mentioned that the Archival director was looking to purchase a diorama of a courthouse scene from the Salem witch trials. I think the deal fell through, though." Momo commented
"Why?"
"Because…I think they refused or something," the brunette hunter replied to Rukia. "I just never thought it would be the same Oomori as our suspect."
"Of course. Would you want to design a scene of an infamous witch hunt, foreign or not, when you yourself or your husband is a witch?" Kurosaki interposed with a hint of a sardonic smile on his lips.
"No…guess not." Her expression darkened.
"I'm sure HQ would've paid top dollar. So for them to refuse then maybe that was when Solomon caught onto something being not right." Wisely he began moving, motioning the girls to follow. Questioningly Momo looked from his impassive face then to Rangiku, but saw the Clairvoyant shake her head. Now wasn't the time.
~~~*~~~
"What was that all about?"
"We were being watched. Didn't you see them?" Kurosaki had stopped walking, the winding road that he had led them on, curved into a deeper, dense part of the wood. Suddenly Momo was chilled, her gaze darted past the heavy tree limbs and shadowy nooks feeling as though a thousand little eyes were upon her.
"The townspeople," Rangiku hazarded to guess, though it wasn't hard to figure out what with even the innkeeper peering out constantly from the little window. "Uh huh." Kurosaki swung from right to left, then, halted and glanced at Momo, "what's the matter? Feel something?"
"Yeah…don't you guys?"
Rukia rubbed her palms together then her arms in the long sleeves of the dress, "I didn't before. But now that you mention it…"
A sharp cry pierced the area of silence, breaking it and startling the hunters. Rangiku swore unladylike, her composure shaken. Kurosaki cocked his head listening a little closer, "a whippoorwill most likely."
"You're saying that was a bird?" Rukia turned on him incredulously.
"Yes, Kuchiki. But…tell me. What do you think it was?"
Stymied and angered she tried several times unsuccessfully to retort half of his venom, but couldn't. Her hands balling into fists, she deliberately averted her face from him and stared off into the crouching shadows. Then surprisingly she sensed him move closer to her and smooth fingers, only the tips rough from the scratched leather, lightly cupped her chin.
"Kuchiki—" he began, she looked up fast to try and read the peculiar emotion reminiscent in his tone when Rangiku interrupted loudly, "hey, guys! I see smoke up ahead. And where there's smoke—"
"-There's bound to be fire," Kurosaki strode away from her without looking back. The hand that had touched her, curling and uncurling seeming to try and rid itself of a contaminant; her eyes flashed. If that was how it was…
~~~*~~~
"A house set far from the town, surrounded by trees. Almost in a world all itself," Kurosaki observed, staring around the clearing where a small two-story cottage sat wrapped on three sides by pine trunks and branches. A small brick chimney emitted curls of gray smoke into the overcast sky, the gloom unbroken as the quiet made it possible to hear the faintest sounds of humming from inside the house. Rangiku saw the shut windows like sorrowful eyes, the peeling door like a gaping maw, the scent of old and misty rain far away and said aloud, "this is it. This is the place, I'm sure of it."Kurosaki glanced at her, "you sure?"
"Positive."
"Well then…Matsumoto, Kuchiki, come with me. Momo, you stay here and—" he unfastened his trench and handed it to her, leaving the under vest covering his holster, "—watch. Keep out of sight from anybody passing but I have a feeling someone may turn up." The brunette hunter nodded, "right. Be careful you guys," she said before heading back for the outer road. When she was out of their sight, as a curve didn't permit the house or the clearing to be seen from the road, Kurosaki flicked his hand indicating it was time to go.
"Let me do the talking," he instructed then rapped loudly on the wooden panel. Rukia stood behind him as did Rangiku, the former eyed his stoic countenance, wondering where on earth had the man from ten minutes before, gone? After a moment of waiting, shuffling came and a voice like that of one that could be expected as being from a tomb, or long in disuse questioned, "who is it?"
A smile crept into Kurosaki's response, "um, Mrs. Oomori? We're from the Hinokan museum in Beppu. We'd like to talk with you about sculpting a new work. If you have the time?"
Rangiku gasped and sent him a glare, which he matched before the door opened and a wrinkled old face peered out at them. "From Beppu, you say?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Kanae Oomori sized them up each in turn, passing over Kurosaki without comment, then taking more interest in Rangiku and then finally noticing Rukia, with whom she stared the longest. "Come in," she said, allowing them entry. They were inducted into a small sitting room off the foyer; high-backed sofas covered in ghostly sheets were grouped around a small rectangular table with claw feet. As they sat down where she gestured, Rukia caught sight of a small, round face peering at them from a hole near the ceiling. She meant to call the hunters' attention to it, but didn't when the old lady came bustling quickly back with a tray of tea things.
"I was just about to have afternoon tea with Mina," Mrs. Oomori explained, removing a bride doll from a sideboard they hadn't noticed before. A gown of fine-antiqued lace and matching veil capped a head of luscious red curls, a tiny porcelain face with long lashes and a coy smile looked back at them with dead eyes. Rukia tried not to stare, a peculiar sensation creeping up her spine. She was sure it was the same face from the hole.
"You like?"Apparently she had failed since the old lady had seen her preoccupation with it. "I-It's very beautiful," Rukia admitted, feeling Kurosaki glance at her. Was her nervousness that obvious? "She is, isn't she? Mina was one of my first daughters. But you," the old lady smiled gently, "are just as lovely, even more so. For your eyes sparkle with life and not emptiness. I would love to sculpt you, my dear."
She clasped her hands tighter, ignoring the cup of tea poured that was growing colder by the second, "thank you for the compliment. But I'm sure our superiors have someone else in mind." With a discreet look to Kurosaki, he took the hint, "well yes. We were sent with a drawing of the girl but I'm afraid I must've left it at the inn. I'm terribly sorry—"
"Don't be. It's rare that me and my girls get any visitors out here," the old lady said blithely. Rangiku looked pointedly at the other two, girls? Daughters?
"By girls, I assume you mean your dolls, ma'am?" Kurosaki used this excuse to get up and allow the old lady to beam and lead him over to the shadowed spaces in the room where more glassy-eyed denizens sat. Leaving Rangiku and Rukia to stare at the bride doll, Mina with suspicion. Footsteps and the two raised voices soon left by another door and the Clairvoyant ventured a comment with a raised brow, "I'd swear she moved."
"You too?" they looked at each other and then laughed at themselves nervously.
"Shall we stay with Mina, or look around?" Rangiku asked seriously once their moment of mirth had subsided. "Look around," Rukia said quickly, standing. The blond hunter followed suit and soon they were walking around the room, looking at the dolls and at one moment, carefully inching a desk drawer open with a flick of a penknife to the lock. "Watch the doors," Rangiku whispered, withdrawing a set of thick old photos tied together with a rubber band that snapped when she tried to remove it.
Rukia took a circuitous route around the sofa and Mina, her eyes catching movement and turning swiftly, gave a startled gasp. At that second, Kurosaki was heard declining an invitation to stay longer and with a promise to return later on with the proposed project, a door in the side panel swung open and they appeared. Rangiku had crammed the photos in the pockets of her blazer and crossed the room, hastily after sliding the drawer shut with a minor squeak that made her wince.
She was just in time to have her knee bump the table and upset the cups of untouched tea. "Oh, I'm sorry!" Hurriedly she dropped down and tried to wipe up the spill with petite white cocktail napkins. Rukia hadn't moved from behind the back of the sofa, not trusting herself to speak, she simply watched Kurosaki make more excuses and apologies for his associate's clumsiness.
Soon they were going out the door and walking back toward the road. "I don't know about what you found out…but we have something to prove that she's not as harmless as she looks," Rangiku said proudly, prompting him to glance at her, "really?"
"Guys!" Momo appeared at their approach, pine needles stuck to her hair and her cheeks were scratched and flustered pink, "guess who I saw come this way! That innkeeper, Sojiro!"
"Probably looking to see where we had gone." Kurosaki calmly said, "now what was it you girls discovered other than more creepy dolls?"
Rangiku chose to ignore his sneer and plunged her hand into her pocket, withdrawing the pilfered items. "They were in a locked drawer of the sideboard. I think there was more in there, but I was only able to get these. But more importantly…look at this," she revealed the topmost one of a smiling red-haired woman dressed in an old-fashioned nurses uniform.
"That's—"
"Mina, the bride doll."
Rukia averted her eyes from the old photo of the once-living woman, only remembering the head of the smiling doll pivoting unnaturally backward to watch her progress around the room.
~~~*~~~
"How're you feeling?" Renji didn't remove his gaze from the TV screen as Grimmjow moved around the small bedroom restlessly. "Better." The policeman stopped before the window and shifted the curtains to look out. "Interesting," he muttered under his breath.
"What is it?"
That man that gave us the keys earlier, he followed Kurosaki and the girls. I saw him when he left…but now he's coming back."
"So?"
"Sooo, you idiot. That means he's suspicious of us and I'm sure—" Grimmjow shut the curtain hurriedly, "—he'll be on his way up here. To make well and sure we're still incapacitated."
"You're imagining things!" Renji scoffed, shifting his crossed feet on the tiny table and settling more comfortably in the cushion. Grimmjow shrugged, " fine. Don't believe me." And went to his suitcase on the foot of the bed, taking out his SCG jacket and holster and putting them on.
"I'm not taking any chances," he settled leaning near the headboard for the man that was sure to be coming up to check on them at any moment. It seemed maybe premonition was coming on strong for less than twenty minutes after his last statement; someone knocked on the door and without waiting for invitation went in.
"I figured you boys were bound to be starved. So I fixed up a little something for you. It's on the tab with the rooms but your friends had said something about bringing vittles from the market," the innkeeper boomed. Renji was near to saying thanks for the food when he caught a warning look from across the room, "much appreciated." He said lamely, "but—"
"—We're going to wait for Kurosaki and the girls." Grimmjow asserted. The man smiled broader, his eyes narrowing strangely, "come now. It may be hours before they come back. At least try the stew," he tapped the round bowl for emphasis. "And I said we'll wait," the policeman repeated, keeping his tone pleasant. Renji noticed the flicker of stifled rage pass over the innkeeper's face; then, it was gone, replaced by a blank closed off expression.
"Suit yourself," the man turned to leave but not before setting the tray of bowls down on the other bed. The two hunters stared at it then watched as he left. "What was that all about?" Renji asked aloud as other voices came from the hall outside and Kurosaki entered.
"What was he doing in here?"
"The innkeeper? Trying to force-feed us stew. Grimm wouldn't touch it and I myself must admit that guy's manner when he brought in it, had me on edge as well. Anyway, so what did you four learn?" Rangiku went around Kurosaki's stiff form and told about their visit to the retired doll-maker. When she had finished, Renji was flipping through the photos, whistling at some of them and raising eyebrows at others. Momo stood at the window, looking out at the darkening sky.
"It's going to rain," she said turning back to the room. Kurosaki knelt on the other bed, stirring the spoon through the thick stew. He lifted up the silver tip and sniffed it, then dropped it back down onto the tray, sending a spray of aromatic liquid across the bedspread. "Was there something in it?" Rangiku asked, seeing his serious frown and knowing it meant more than just annoyance.
"No. Unless you account a certain herb meant to dose out the sleep of ages. It's nearly undetectable to most—say a type of belladonna but not as potent except in heavy amounts. There was also wine poured in to mask the odor."
Grimmjow started up, "you mean that bastard was—"
"Going to poison you two? Yes. But I can only assume he thought we either weren't going to return or maybe something else…I don't know." Kurosaki frowned and started to pace, passing by Rukia as she suddenly began searching her pockets frantically.
"Kuchiki?"
"My phone. I must've dropped it somewhere…damn," she muttered, glancing down at the carpet and behind the chair for it. "Hold on," Kurosaki withdrew his and dialed a few numbers in, the hunters became quiet, waiting for the responding ring. Nothing.
"Maybe it fell out on the road?" Rangiku ventured to suggest. Rukia twisted her hands worriedly around her compact, clenching it tightly when Kurosaki snapped his cell shut and said, "Maybe you dropped it at Oomori's home."
Rukia breathed in sharply and her face whitened, "oh no…"
Renji turned to look at her when Rangiku and Momo did, "did I miss something?"
"Rukia?" the Clairvoyant went toward her, "what's wrong?"
"I…something did fall…when we got up to look around the room. I heard it hit the floor, but—"
"Thought nothing of it?" Kurosaki finished her unspoken admittance. Her eyes darted briefly to his face and then away, "yeah."
"Well then…I guess we'll just have to go and get it back."
"Complete the hunt tonight?" Renji realized the meaning of the lead hunter's words. "Our job was to come and find Takahiro Oomori. He is dead, only she lives. You saw those things she had created," Kurosaki directed this to Rangiku and continued with her hesitant nod, "I don't know exactly what we're facing. But orders are to kill on sight, is that clear?"
"Yes, sir!" the hunters replied.
"Good. Kuchiki, Hinamori you will go with me. And Matsumoto, you stay with Jeagerjaques and Abarai. There's something going on with this place." He glanced meaningfully at the tray on the bed and then jerked his head at them, "get ready."
~~~*~~~
"Do you really think that innkeeper is helping the old witch-lady?"
"Keep your voice down," Rangiku hissed, her hands around the trigger of her gun, carefully she inched the muzzle around the curve of the stairs, then shooed Renji back in the room with a gesture of irritation. "Stay there. I'm going to go scope out things down below," she glared at his hurt expression but sighed in relief when he did as she said.
Kurosaki, Momo and Rukia had left, weapons in holsters and prepared for whatever they might face later on, though something did bother her as she crept downstairs, no one was around. It was just too quiet.
She waved her gun in a wide circle, stepping off the stair, no startled cries came and then she advanced to the main room and wide empty counter. Where was the innkeeper? A small half swinging door let her behind the counter, glancing to and fro and seeing no one watching, she entered the proprietor's private office. The room was in near darkness until her feeling hand on the wall came across a light switch, which she immediately flipped on, flooding the room with light. What she saw made her scream until something small wielded by tiny hands broke over her head and she crumpled soundlessly to the floor.
~~~*~~~
Renji sat down with his holster draped over his knees, cane at his side. The remnants of a hasty snack from someone's travel bags tossed unceremoniously by Grimmjow onto the table. "I'm starving," he grumbled, his color much improved. He left the window and started moving around again restlessly, his hand going periodically to the butt of the small gun at his shoulder.
"How long do you think before we—" he trailed off, as they both heard the unmistakable sound of a faraway cry and then the creak of step below. Renji raised his finger to his lips and crossed stiffly to the door, pressing his ear to the panel. Again a stealthy step and then another. He turned back to Grimmjow with an expression of alarm.
"That can't be Rangiku…"
"No," Grimmjow agreed in a whisper, his teal eyes wide. He'd seen enough of the previous hunt to know that something dangerous was most likely coming up to their room. The two hunters backed away from the door, Renji bumped against the chair side, Grimmjow between the beds, his legs braced and heart racing.
They trained their weapons at the door, triggers held. The knob began to twist and a cheerful voice followed the faint creaking of hinges, "you boys are all alone up here now, ain't ya?" The opening revealed a caricature of a jointed man-sized doll, wooden fingers waggled past their horrified expressions, "I see you didn't eat the nice stew I brought you. Don't you know it's bad manners to—"
"S—S-Stay back!!!" Renji cried when the doll-man took two peculiar, dragging steps into the room. Grimmjow watched this with admirable calm presence of mind; however, his main preoccupation was the fact that they were now trapped. "—To not partake of something when given by a friendly hand? Now lower that weapon, boy, before you shoot someone with it!"
That last speech was too much for Renji, with a wild cry he opened fire, Grimmjow did the same. Though in hindsight there was nothing to suppose the orbo bullets would do anything to the doll.
They could only hope Rangiku was alive and not tied up somewhere dead.
For her assistance was greatly needed.
~~~*~~~
Kurosaki held a finger to his lips, going to one side of the closed door. Night was falling rapidly and not a glimmer of light could be seen from the windows of the cottage. Momo held her weapon closely, her hazel eyes darting to the knob then to the lead hunter's face. He nodded and she took the heavy brass knob in her gloved hand and checked it, then backed up a few steps and let the back of her boot collide with it. A sharp crack and then it another kick by Kurosaki sent it crashing inward.
He stepped inside carefully shining his flashlight around then motioned for them to follow. Rukia went a little more apprehensively after him and Momo. The house was quiet and only the disturbingly hollow sound of their combined footsteps on loose floorboards was heard. The first rooms they came upon were empty, not only of the dolls but also their master as well.
Kurosaki then looked for the stairs, while Momo started toward the end of the inner hallway. The sound of the door opening prompted Rukia to make a choice between the acerbic hunter going upstairs or investigating the down, with the other. "Wait for me," she muttered, hurriedly trailing after the brunette. Kurosaki glanced at her, sighed once and continued with one hand along the railing and the other loose on the trigger.
A shaft of light fell on a thin blade poking up from between two steps before the landing. The stairs were steep and he kept a good hold on the narrow wooden beam feeling it tremble and his legs convulse as a searing lancet of pain striped across the back of his ankles. "Kuchiki!!!" he yelled, his grip failing and sending him crashing down the flight of stairs. Another scream from the room at the end of the hallway and the sharp rapport as a shot was fired and then the slamming of a door came.
Kurosaki lay at the bottom, clutching his leg, hissing between gritted teeth. The scramble and thud of little feet came from above on the landing and he looked up despite himself. In the glare of his dropped flashlight a bent figure and other smaller ones gathered and peered down at him.
"I'm so happy you came back, my dear boy." Kanae Oomori said, clapping gnarled hands together, Kurosaki was startled to see carving tools being cradled by tiny arms. And as they came down toward him, he saw tiny porcelain faces gloating with malice: the dolls.
~~~*~~~
"This place had peace before you came here, Kanae. Onta was different then." The man spoke from the shadows. Light from the halfway drawn curtains spilled hazily into the room, illuminating upon the figure of a woman seated before a great desk, blocks of fine wood were grouped around and the sound of soft scraping could be heard as a knife flicked in and out of a carved chunk.
Rangiku was part of the scene yet not, her eyes widening in fear for the seated woman when the dulled blade of an axe reflected the meager light. The innkeeper moved closer, sweat stood out on beads on his broad forehead and creased neck. Eyes gauged the distance between his axe and the neck of the woman.
"Kanae…I'm sorry…" he raised the axe and swung sideways, but nothing happened. Only a watery gurgling sound spewed from his own throat. Rangiku saw the small jointed fingers of a man and then a painted face appear over Sojiro's shoulder. A knife with a buckhorn handle was held between the knobby wooden fingers.
"Takahiro," said the old woman chidingly, finally acknowledging the doll. On the wrinkled forehead of the doll gleamed a mark of glowing black light.
"Ar is the rune of binding, binding a soul to a doll and then controlling it. Ar is the rune of binding of Saturn and…"
Rangiku started awake, her lips forming the words, "Ar is the rune of binding, she binds the soul to a doll she makes and then controls it. Saturn is the sign of dark night…a dark night! Renji!" she fumbled for her gun and then finally let her eyes rise to the seated figure of the long dead innkeeper, the brown leathery skin of his throat was stained a rotted crimson, a slash straight across.
She looked a little longer then turned away, "I'm sorry." Her steps hurried, she fled from the room and out into the lobby then hearing muffled thuds from the ceiling, ran up the stairs. On the landing she saw Renji collapsed outside of the room, his attention focused solely on the struggle from within. "Dammit," he hissed, scrabbling for the end of his gun just barely out of reach.
Inside the room, Grimmjow was pressed against the window, his head slamming into the panes of glass and stiff wooden fingers tightening around his throat. Rangiku ignored her partner's exclamation and instead took careful aim and fired twice into the ball-sockets connecting the legs. The doll shook and sagged against the policeman, but didn't release him.
A frenzied snarl erupted from Rangiku's mouth and her gun discharged four more shots into the wooden head and neck. Shards of wood exploded along with flecks of glass, but Grimmjow was freed. She tore the grasping hands from his throat, and helped him up. "Are you alright?" she demanded. Teal eyes stared back at her like she was crazy.
"Alright?" he echoed and then snickered hollowly, "she asks if I'm okay after being mauled by a life-size doll! Renji was the one who hurt himself badly. He tackled the thing head on and re-sprained his ankle in the process."
Rangiku checked the chambers of both guns and then dug in one of the suitcases and withdrew a carton of spare bullets, "only with clearance from HQ could these pass through airport security. Luckily Kurosaki always carries extra." With that said, she began reloading Renji's gas gun and Grimmjow's near revolver. "Unfortunately I don't think even he knows the truth of what we're facing. That's why…" far away the sound of a thousand little hands pounding at the doors and windows of the ground floor came.
"Shit. They're here," Rangiku picked up the tortoiseshell cane from the floor and Grimmjow went to help its owner up. An arm over the policeman's broad shoulder and he stood up unsteadily on his legs. "Gods…it hurts!" Renji hissed and nearly toppled forward. Pitilessly Rangiku glanced at him, "we have to go. There are more of those things coming. Only killing the witch will cease their movements. I'm worried for Kurosaki and the girls…"
~~~*~~~
It was slow going on the road out of the town. Rangiku kept watch while Grimmjow supporting Renji moved on ahead; branches crackled in the woods and soft chuckles floated to them every once in a while. "But how did that woman do all of this?" her partner asked with difficulty between breaths.
"Simple. Her power was that of the seventeenth rune Ar in the runic canon. Her victims were chosen for their beauty and youth then as she gathered more dolls these carried out her bidding and were sent out to kill others. Their souls were what she bound and placed inside vessels she created from wood and ceramic. Living dolls from their faces but inside each is a trapped soul of a human." Rangiku spun around sharply hearing a light tap of feet on pavement but saw nothing.
"On dark nights was when the power of Saturn was drawn down. Nights such as this," she breathed in, up ahead and behind them, tiny shapes crouched. "Fuck," Grimmjow muttered, his free hand fumbling to raise his pistol. "Aim for the joints and sockets," Rangiku braced her gun. Renji did the same even though his face was taut with pain.
A dozen shots rang out in the night.
~~~*~~~
"Kuchiki…" Kurosaki whispered, his voice was hoarse; his hands were tied behind his back with a coarse rope. Rukia lay full-length on a table, her hands were folded on her breast and her eyes were shut, the glowing symbol of a rune was at her head and feet. Momo was nowhere to be seen, probably the same though.
"Ku—"
"It's no use. She won't awaken for as long as the rune of binding holds her soul." Kanae approached, in one hand a gleaming buckhorn knife was extended. Kurosaki twisted some, his mouth dry as sandpaper, "you won't get away with this! I'll—don't you touch her!"
The upraised knife slowly began a curved descent down toward Rukia's chest. Kurosaki jerked and yanked his wrists and his ankles but lacked the strength to break the rope, in horror he watched, knowing there was almost nothing he could do to save her. Except…
Blue light flared suddenly, another symbol crossed the rune of Ar. "Laguz!" Kurosaki gasped, in the doorway stood Momo, more light emanated from the field encircling her feet. "Rukia!" she yelled, "snap out of it! Release your craft!" Kanae heard and smiled coldly, "I'm afraid you're mistaken. No one can escape the ring of Saturn."
"Kuchiki!" Kurosaki strained and rocked in the chair he was seated in. Momo ducked the swipe the old woman aimed for her face, stepping back and then coming inches from a miniature baby doll. "That is so wrong," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, a wave of water shielding her from the machete held by pudgy fingers. The stained edge scraped fine spray onto the floor, the bisque face twisting sideways; an obscene smile on the humanoid features stared back at her.
Momo's lips moved silently, spirals gathering into a vortex that at her command caught and sliced away the tiny clothed arms, the large machete fell, cleaving a hole in the wooden floor. The old woman screamed in anguish and blind rage, blackness darker than the night rose up at her feet.
"Yat thur na Ar!"
The light of Laguz began to dim beneath the onslaught of Saturn's bind. Kurosaki felt a slight tightening in his chest, his skin feeling as though it were on fire. "Momo…" he said through clenched teeth, knowing the brunette hunter wouldn't last much longer. The ball of black energy, frayed around the edges allowed the torrid blue of a stormy sea to twist around, the two crafts fighting and the hunter's strength waning fast, the orbo pendants hadn't worked. The dull green of his, lay against the top of his coat, withholding none of the residual energy flowing from the battle.
From beyond the window, the sound of bullets' rapport rattled the panes. Kurosaki thought briefly of Rangiku but quickly dismissed her. They wouldn't arrive in time. Momo gasped, her body going rigid as the wall of darkness smothered her craft. Kanae moved forward, hands outstretched and wrapping around the young hunter's throat. A struggle ensued with her weakly trying to fend off the elderly woman's attack, and in the process began backing up out the open door.
Kurosaki knew warning was futile even as the railing struck Momo's hip, her dulling eyes glanced to the side and down; her body rattled the wooden bars. Choking, she grasped the woman's forearms, and both struggled in the others' hold, the narrow rail keeping them within bounds. Kurosaki watched in growing trepidation when Momo was forced nearly over, her heels lifting minutely. On Kanae Oomori's face, sick triumph reigned.
"Ar hek!"
"Naalam Laguz…" Her craft flared, as did the binding rune's; black and blue coalesced, shimmering in a wave then shooting forward over the house. A scream left the old witch's mouth as she toppled over the banister, only to disappear in the darkness of the stairwell. Glass tinkled in the window frames, the impact of the two disparate powers shattering them.
Momo leaned in the room after looking down for the witch's body, she breathed a deep sigh of relief; it was finally over.
~~~*~~~
"The same. Scratched, cut and bruised." Kurosaki reported to Hitsugaya on his cell. The orange-haired lead hunter heard the exasperated sigh on the other end of the line and had to agree whole-heartedly with the Chief's assessment: they were lucky to be alive.
~~~*~~~
Outside, Rangiku stood over the dug earth; spade in hand. "Ready?" she asked, as silently Momo and Rukia approached with trash bags of the lifeless dolls. The brunette hunter dumped her load first and backed up, "yeah." The moonlight unveiled from the wreath of black clouds revealed the dark purple bruise marring Rukia's left temple. Renji had exclaimed over it and the red finger imprints on Momo's neck. He himself watched the proceedings for a moment longer from the woodpile near the back door then got up and made his way over to them, leaning heavily onto his cane, a bottle of lighter fluid in his free hand.
Grimmjow, a tall shadow in the circle of moonlight, stepped forward, a poker from the chimney at his side. They were all quiet as the splashing of ignitable liquid struck the cursed dolls. Kurosaki looked out over the morose scene from the glass-less window on the second floor, his voice lowered but still floating down to them as he narrated their actions to Hitsugaya.
Rangiku did the honors and dropped a flaming match into the broken heap. "Why did she do it?" Momo asked, unmindful of Kurosaki and only drawing strength from the close ring of fellow hunters. "Who knows. It wasn't vengeance as with some, hell, it wasn't even for someone else. I just really don't know…" the tongues of flame lent extra light to Rangiku's pensive face, her blond hair hung lank and ragged at the tips over her shoulders.
"Maybe…" Grimmjow began, "she was lonely. You said she called them her daughters," teal eyes shifted to the Clairvoyant and then to the other girls. "Think about it. Her husband had died, leaving her all alone with only glassy-eyed dolls for company. Sure the innkeeper was a bit much. But…"
"She had no real children. I suppose you may be right. In the beginning perhaps it was for simple beauty…" Rangiku took the poker from his lax grip and stirred the spiraling ashes, "but in the end only the dolls never left her."
~~~To be continued~~~
A/N: got it done! Yippee! :) Reviews are appreciated!