I realize that I suck at coming up with titles. I know I shouldn't try too hard because I'm still a newbie, but darn it, I wish I could write better! =(
Here's Part Dos to my two-shot. Warning! I put the rated T on this because I personally don't think it's that graphic, but if you're really sensitive to this kind of stuff (violence, swearing, etc.), then you need to get out now.
Other than that, Enjoy! *Disclaimer: I still do not own Bleach *SIGH*
#1: Death and the Dying
He was fading.
She could hear his heart beating as he lay on his back, motionless. It beat like a tiny pendulum swinging back and forth, but growing fainter by the second.
How strange that such a man as him would die so young, and in his own house at that. But then, people died all the time.
Some went quickly and barely realized it until they were already on their way out of this world. Others went slowly, at an almost painful rate. These she disliked as she always felt akin to a crow awaiting its carrion as she stood and watched.
But this man did not seem the type to go without resistance and because she could only interact with the dead, she had no other choice but to wait.
His heart beat erratically in protest, the wounds on his torso continued to shed blood. The carpet he lay on was slowly painted over in a new shade of scarlet. But he remained unconscious. This was going to take time.
Rather than watching and waiting like a vulture from above, she occupied herself with examining the various items around his house.
It held the typical paraphernalia associated with an average, middle-class home. These did not really catch her eye. She glanced at the amazingly accurate drawings across the wall. An odd, scruffy man seemed to invade almost every picture, often uninvited by the other occupants. Her curiosity growing, she began to peruse the collection of images.
Aside from the scruffy man, two little girls also appeared frequently. Despite one sporting a radiant smile haloed with light brown hair and the other a smirk peeking out of dark ebony, she could tell they were related. The resemblance did not end there as she spotted the scruffy man again, this time receiving a well-thrown punch to the face, from the very man who now lay dying before her.
Another picture, featuring only one face she recognized. He was surrounded by others similar to his own age. She spared a glance back to his present appearance. He was only slightly younger then. They all held the same strange tubes, some waving them in the air and others tucking them safely in their arms. They all looked happy, excited. Even he seemed affected by the cheerful atmosphere. His prominent scowl had receded slightly and, she was not sure but, his furrowed brows seemed to loosen, as well.
She pondered at the juxtaposition between then and now. A face once so full of spirit and life now ashen and nearly devoid of any such thing. How strange and sad his fate was.
A jolt in his heartbeat quickly stole her attention. A spluttering cough and groans of pain. His heart beat faster. He was fighting his fate. Strange, though she truly knew nothing about him, this seemed more like what he would do.
"Damn it…"
He cursed so softly, she nearly missed it.
"Not yet," he rasped. "Not yet. Gotta…"
Another desperate breath.
"Gotta stop'im."
At this, she remembered. The events played out again in her mind.
A dark shadow other than her own enters.
A small box hidden in a bookcase.
A struggle. The bookcase falls.
A knife glimmers in the dark.
He crumples into a heap. The shadow slithers away into the night.
Another cough wet with blood and a groan brought her back to the present.
"Won't let you…"
His eyes were open. They were looking right at her. At least, they appeared to be.
The moon emerged from the clouds. Two pools of soft brown glowed amber in the light. His face was set with determination in spite of the pain.
"I won't let you…" he repeated, this time with more fervor.
It was like a mantra, a prayer. It seemed almost appropriate in this situation.
"Can you", her throat had gone dry. She hesitated, but continued anyway.
"Can you see me?"
If he had heard her question, he had no time to answer as another wave of coughs and wheezy struggles for oxygen came over him.
The bloody pool had grown to almost overtake the carpet. Still, he struggled to stay awake.
The effort was too strenuous for his heart. It would spike irregularly before diminishing again. He was going to die before answering her question.
"Hey, you." she inched to the carpet's edge.
The blood had stained the whole thing a deep dark red. She looked at his face again. His eyes had closed and his breathing was faint.
His heart had slowed, less a pounding drum and more a dull thud.
"Wait." She spoke to no one in particular.
He was going to pass on before answering her question.
She looked down to her sword and then back to him, a crazy idea had taken root.
She was at his side now, standing on the bloodstained carpet. His heartbeat was reduced to a feeble rustling. He had stopped breathing and again lay completely still.
Her sword was drawn and hung ready at her side. She glanced back at the wall of pictures.
'It's just curiosity.' She justified. 'That's all.'
His heart had stopped. She plunged her sword straight through it.
So? Was it good? Not? Mediocre? Inquiring minds (mainly mine) want to know!
I tried to focus on Rukia's point of view a little more in this part, but I'm not sure if I pulled it off.
If you liked it, should I continue? If so, I'm gonna need a beta. If anyone knows any good ones, please let me know. Please?
*Puppy-dog eyes*
Rate, comment, and review to your heart's content. And Happy Halloween!