Greetings, world of Fanfiction! For years I have read such amazing stories and left my own opinions as to what I thought of every single word I have read. Now, I hope to add to the community and share what my imagination gives me. I am rewriting these first two chapters before continuing, as not only have I forgotten my original intent with this story but I have new ideas to work with.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. Bleach is licensed by Madman Entertainment, Viz Media and Manga Entertainment, and is owned by Tite Kubo, TV Tokyo and Studio Pierrot.
He had come home from another dull day of work, just as always. He carelessly kicks off his shoes, laces still tied, at the front door before making his way into this house. A place he couldn't bring to call 'Home'. And why should he? Ever since moving into this place he had nothing but trouble.
The roof leaked every time it rained, which happened a lot. The old oak floors and stairs were frail and splintered in places, a source of constant frustration and hospital visits for times when a splinter gave him an infection. As such, he had medical bills that kept stacking on his nearby desk that made for a brutal coupling with his rent which was way too high for the meager pay he made pumping gas. When his parents passed they left him nothing, dividing what little they owned to his cousins, aunts and uncles. He just couldn't understand why his parents loathed him so, that they would spite him even in death this way. Last family reunion he went to he heard of how everyone had their lives together, many were either in college or had their dream job, making a decent living off of what his dead parents had provided.
He doesn't bother slipping off his socks as he makes his way to the kitchen. He hated this apartment, but he took pride in this one room where he felt at ease. This was his artistic studio, where he could spend an entire day working on his meals and never notice the time passing. Tonight though wouldn't show him toiling over a meal he could be proud of. Instead, he pulls out some leftovers; mashed potatoes and some seasoned corned beef, and sticks it into the microwave. He had a long day, and didn't have the time to properly cook this evening. After all, he had to head back out early tomorrow to repeat this draining process.
He takes out his reheated food, grabs a fork from a nearby drawer, and shuffles his way across the tiled floor back to the rest of his dwelling. Dim lights kept the place illuminated, lights that he kept on even when away to discourage anyone from breaking in. He didn't have much that was valuable, but what he did have he didn't want to lose. A television, a lamp, an old Game Cube console and VHS player were all the technology he could claim to have in his 'Living Room', and a computer inside his bedroom. In his main social area was a single loveseat sofa along with two video tapes out from last night's attempt at a movie night. They were both Disney movies, oddly enough. Hercules and Mulan, his favorites. He remembers back when he was a kid these two movies got him through his less than pleasant childhood, the only two gifts he ever got from his parents.
They were what kept his imagination from dying, fueling his desire to keep going to one day realize his dream. He wanted to be strong like them. He was an adult, so of course he knew that nothing would play out in such a grand way like they did, but that didn't mean he couldn't hope and work his hardest. A small smile is brought to his face and a warmth spread through his chilled body that he had longed for all day.
He moves into his bedroom and sits himself down on the foot of his bed, where he starts to slowly eat what was left of last night's dinner. As he eats he looks up to the small calendar hanging on his chipped pale wall. Today was marked April 3rd, and seven days from that held a special reminder, one he should know by heart but dreads the approach of.
"My birthday..." He never celebrated it. His coworkers would try to throw a small party for him, most likely. Unlike his family, they seemed to at least care a little. Every year though he managed to avoid it. Not because he wasn't thankful, but because he didn't want to celebrate something that had always represented a great source of his anguish. He didn't want to be alive.
He would never end his own life, that would only cause problems for those around him that he had some sort of influence in. However since the day he was born his parents made him feel like nothing, like a waste of space. To this day he felt just like that, a waste of what could have been a good life.
He finishes his meal and places the empty plate on his ripped quilt, another one of the few things he managed to take with him when he moved out. The Disney quilt he grew up with as a child didn't cover him the same these days, now a fully grown adult. He moves over to his computer desk and powers the tower on, followed by the monitor. He opened the video site he was subscribed to and resumed the video he had left off on the night before last. Over the speakers he heard the fight scene that first pulled him into this show. Episode 308 of Bleach, with the main character Ichigo Kurosaki fighting Aizen Sousuke within the Soul Society.
He had seen a clip of it on Youtube, at which point he decided to watch from the beginning. it had him hooked from the start. How he wished he could be part of such a fantastic universe. He wouldn't be some protagonist, but in worlds like these everyone's lives seemed just a bit better. Ichigo's parents loved him, and had siblings that adored him. He had friends that had his back, that he could go to war for. In the end, he even had someone who loved him enough to start a loving family.
He wanted that. From the very bottom of his soul he yearned for that. If he couldn't have a normal family life, he wanted to find one person that would treat him as another human being, someone who made him feel equal.
As the episode came to a close he closed out of the browser and hit the power button, setting the device to hibernate. He walks back to his bed, sets the dinner plate from before on his barely held-together nightstand and slid himself under the covers. He didn't have the energy to remove his socks and he mentally told himself that he'd just take a rushed shower in the morning like always.
Seven days until his birthday, that was his final thought as he slipped into a sJamespless slumber. He had prayed to whoever would listen that maybe this year he could skip that dreaded day. He didn't expect for anyone to have heard him, or to feel his desire.
And so, as what he would have seen as a gift from heaven in return for his poor lot in life, one Jarod Andrews passes in his sJamesp. His dark brown hair framed his still, pale face through the night and unmoving into the morning. While he was now dead in this life, we readers know that this man's soul would pass on to something exceptional. So strong was his heart-felt plea and desire that the Soul King, in his transcendent state of being, pulled the man's soul of despair into this universe of Hollows, Shinigami and Quincy. He was pulled into the world he always wanted, but not in a way he could ever expect.
When he woke up James did not open his eyes. He did not want to possibly ruin his hopes on what he currently felt. He did not feel his worn down mattress under his body but instead something soft and grainy, almost like sand. He felt a slight chill from the still air, meaning his quilt was gone. After a few seconds of letting that sink in the man dared open his eyes. What he saw was something he could have only dreamed of viewing in person. He had woken up inside the Menos Forest, the underground forest within the realm of Hueco Mundo. White sands and equally white dead trees could be seen all wound him, surrounding rough cliffs holding caves of various sizes.
He sits up and turns his head around quickly to see if this was not just some trick. The dull grey sands did not vanish nor did the landscape change, so this was no optical issusion. Looking up, he could see the dome that separated this forest from the endless white sands of Hueco Mundo's surface desert. He could only imagine the beauty of seeing the perfectly full moon bask the sands in a shining silvery light. Of course, seeing as he was in the realm of Hollows, James had another observation to make.
If I was taken to the realm of Hollows, then am I...?
He tries to prop himself up with his elbows but slips as his arms are now longer than his body is used to. Looking down he could see that his legs too are different. They're longer, bulked up with muscle and covered by some sort of bone-white exoskeleton. In fact, taking a glance at his arms he found them in much the same state. His fingers and toes were longer and remained proportionate with the rest of his body, each one coming to razor-sharp claws and talons.
He reaches his hand up to his chest, feeling for what would be the metaphorical nail in the coffin. After a few seconds of patting down his chest he was about to call it quits until his hand grazed down towards his stomach and could feel what he had been searching for, the hole that signified his now missing heart. He had in fact become a Hollow.
He couldn't tell what his mask was. Despite reaching up and feeling that his mask held a great deal of detail to it, there is no clue as to what creature it represented. The newly discovered Hollow forces itself up to its feet, wobbling a bit as it adjusts to it's body's much larger size. He felt off balance, like an infant learning to walk for the first time.
After taking a few steps and certain that he could keep his balance something else clicked in, as if delayed just long enough for his moment of self-discovery. A painful hunger seemed to rip through his entire being, making him release a low growl with how unexpected it was. He knew that Hollows were driven by their hunger, a need to fill their lack of a heart, but to think that it was this bad. It made the times his parents had starved him as a kid seem like a fun diet choice. However he did not lose strength from it. Instead, it drove him to seek out something to eat. His mind was quickly going fuzzy, losing most thought that didn't relate to either feeding or survival. He raises his head high and sniffs the air, and as he catches a scent his mouth waters in anticipation for a feast.
He starts running in the direction the delectable smell came from. After a few minutes he took to a solid sprint. When that didn't seem fast enough he went on to all fours, running like an animal after its prey. He kicked up massive clouds of sand in his wake towards the feast that awaited him.
When he arrived James was not disappointed. Looking down off the cliff he found himself on, he could see hundreds upon hundreds of other Hollows, just like himself, gorging themselves on each other. He licks his lips in anticipation, barely restraining himself from just charging in and mindlessly feeding. He draws closer, and with each step his mind begins to develop more of a haze. Soon it would be his instinct to eat that would control his movements, and he wanted to make sure he was in the best position possible for when that happened; outside and near somewhere he could possibly escape if it seemed he himself was about to be devoured.
Once the final step was made there was no going back. It was as if James was no longer in control and watched as his claws gouged flesh from bone, teeth ripped limbs apart and his talons gored those who dared be under his feet. He could feel the raw energy his body made out of the many Hollows he was eating, and while the sensation was indescribably good, his hunger did not diminish in the least. He needed more, he craved more, and he would have it. Every single one of these Hollows would make for his dinner.
It had been hours later and the feeding frenzy continued as if it just started. While chewing on some bear Hollow's left leg he noted that new Hollows were jumping in just as quickly as others were being eaten. Sometimes the newer ones would get the drop on the older beasts while they were eating, scoring two meals. Others just rushed in and became fast food to one of the more experienced Hollows who he assumed had been at this for possibly weeks, if not months.
That was another thing he noticed while his body was on auto-pilot, there was no way to tell the passing of time. Even if he was up on the surface, the moon couldn't tell him since it never moved. There weren't any clocks or a variant of a sundial, and no internal sense of time. For all he knew time passed differently here, and the past few hours could have been days.
The new Hollows down below were feeding, just as they should. A hearty chuckle echoes from the chest of what could be considered their elder. It's fur rustles a bit as it starts to walk away, deciding it would head to the World of the Living so it could get a tasty soul to eat. It could eat other Hollows, but they didn't provide the same entertainment. They didn't have that same look of fear in their eyes as he slowly killed and ate them. A void opened before him like a gaping mouth, leading right to his intended destination.
The river running through Karakura Town was rushing this day from the rain storm overhead. A wide grin spreads across it's malleable mask as he sets himself by the water, setting up it's lure by the edge and waiting. The citizens of Karakura didn't really seem to notice for a bit. This was expected, seeing as most humans didn't have much in the way of Spirit Energy.
That left only those who would be the tastiest, and provide a good feast. After a solid hour of waiting and the rain increasing it's downpour he sees two viable targets. An orange haired child and his mother were walking by, and the child looked right at his lure.
Hook, Line...
He flings the lure off over the edge towards the river, and in response the child bravely, and foolishly, comes running. His smile could not grow wider as he saw his meal approaching. On a pleasant note he could see the mother follow behind. Oh how he loves to feed on the mothers first.
And Sinker.
He pulls back the lure and lashes out, his claws digging into the mother's flesh since she decided to use herself as a shield. This was certainly a scene he had seen many times before. They are sent tumbling, the child knocked out and pinned under his own mother. He approaches, knowing that a Shinigami was bound to come soon if he didn't eat quickly. He finishes the mother and sinks his teeth into the soul. It was so rich, so powerful, that he could hardly believe this woman was a normal human. In any case, the boy seemed to be out cold, and what fun would it be to eat someone who couldn't flavor their soul for him with a little fear? He could always come back again later, he was a Hollow now after all. Time was on his side, as it had been the last 50+ years.
That same void from before opens for the mighty Grand Fisher, taking him back home to the Menos Forest. That boy's soul, it was nothing too powerful but it had potential. The idea of feeding on an even more powerful soul that this mother soon made his mouth water, and for this Grand Fisher would bide his time, letting this meal 'marinate'.
How many weeks had he been eating? Was it only weeks? For all he knew it could have been months. His only solace is that the massive swarm of Hollows was shrinking. No new Hollows were joining out of fear from the power emanating from what remained. Senseless feasting has now turned into a fight for domination, and each victory gave a more significant power boost. There were roughly a hundred Hollows left now, and he was hoping the end of this would come soon. He wasn't sure if he could remain sane like this for too much longer.
His movements by this point weren't out of instinct, but trained reflex. He had noticed he was regaining control over himself the more power he obtained, as such he was coming to an understanding of how his body worked. He was fast and held great physical strength, but didn't have much in the way of physical protection. His bone white exoskeleton didn't do much against enemy claws or teeth, but he was quick to respond and take down anything that managed to get him by surprise. Another surprise is that wounds he received quickly healed. He knew of a Hollow's High Speed Regeneration but to feel it was an entirely new sensation. He could feel his flesh stitch together, or in some cases seen limbs of his regrow entirely. While it felt better than the moment of pain the injury gave he couldn't say it was a good feeling.
The number of remaining Hollows was dwindling quickly, and while he had a good grasp of the power he had inside he couldn't account for what the others had. He was still too new to all this to properly sense the power within his opponents. He could remember Pesquissa, knew that more advanced Hollows in the Menos class could pull off the technique, but had no idea himself how it was performed. Like all their other natural abilities, he figured it would come naturally through his base instincts.
Not that it would matter soon. After what felt like hours it was down to five facing off, counting himself. Two who had wolf masks, another looked to be some sort of insect, the fourth had a mask that looked like some sort of reptile, possibly a gecko. Slowly the two wolves begin circling the centipede. Despite being smaller the two at least shared some trust to take down what was surely a larger and stronger foe.
That left the reptile for James. He didn't like the looks of this one. He had seen it in action and was certain it's erratic movements would make his speed and strength useless if he couldn't land a hit. James rushed in, swiping with his claws for the Hollow's head. It shows off it's reflexes by quite easily leaping over his arm and right past his shoulder, landing on the sand behind him. It spits out some acid that eats away at his exoskeleton covering, making that area a bullseye target. A growl rumbles through James's chest as he turns and attacks again, only for his target to leap the same way. He rolls away as acid splashes the sand he previously stood upon.
He will change up now that I found his pattern...
He slowly starts walking around the gecko Hollow, watching as it turns to keep James from getting behind him. It leaps at him, mouth open to sink its teeth into James and devour him alive. Seems the hunger it felt made it perform a careless move, it couldn't dodge while in the air. James's clawed right hand skewers the gecko Hollow's mask in one swift movement, ending it's life and chance at evolution. He quickly feeds, knowing the other three won't be distracted for long. They'll feel his growth in power, and will likely turn their attention to him.
That acid was doing something to slow down his healing, he could still feel it stinging the sensitive flesh under his exoskeleton. As he devoured his prey he could see the centipede chowing down. He was slightly hoping the wolves could have taken victory but the centipede was clearly stronger. As the two finished their respective meals they faced each other down. Some of the smaller Hollows started gathering to watch so that they'd know who they were to avoid in the coming future.
With a shrill scream that was as hollow as their namesake the centipede took action first, rushing in to try and crush Jame's legs with its mandibles. James proved the quicker, easily jumping up out of the way. As he came down he kicked at the centipede, digging his talons into the creature's back between it's protective exoskeleton. While he wasn't able to dig in far it did give him a good grip of his foe.
The centipede reacted instantly by flailing against a nearby cliff wall, slamming James against the grey stone repeatedly. James's grip remained firm on his opponent, even as he was slammed into the sandy ground under them from the centipede's flailing. He could feel bruises forming, but he was starting to notice some sort of pattern to the insect's movements.
Using his momentum he releases his grip and is sent up into the air. Gravity and his own momentum bring him down quickly with an attempt to spear his claws through the Hollow's skull. Unlike last time however he does not land the blow as the centipede moves away, evading the attempted kill. James's hand buries itself into the sand, keeping him in place for a moment until he is sent tumbling from the centipede slamming its body into him. His right arm snapped from the force before it pulled free from the sand. Of course it wouldn't be so easy...
James catches himself after slamming into the nearest cliff wall. He kneels down, panting as he tries to catch his breath. He favors his broken right arm as he waits for the centipede to act. He knew that if he was in the centipede's shoes he would try to land the finishing blow. They weren't James though, and likely knew little of James's healing capabilities. Already he could feel the bones align in his right arm. The centipede Hollow was rushing in, sure of it's victory until two hands pierced it's skull from inside it's own mouth. It tried to bite down on James, but was quickly losing energy and didn't have the force needed to even pierce the thin boney hide James had. Soon it's consciousness faded, leaving James with his victory meal.
Once finished he turns to the crowd that had gathered. He could still feel his power climb from the Hollow he had just finished as he started walking towards them. He still felt hungry, so empty. He needed to-
Why... why did I stop moving?
His body freezes. He feels a weight overtake him, as if he was submerged into the deepest part of an ocean. His muscles feel like they were burning and he could feel his bones shatter and reshape themselves, growing to accommodate a larger form. A change was overtaking him and he was finding it hard to remain conscious let alone stand. Last thing he could remember seeing was a great flash of white light before his mind was plunged into darkness.