It's been way too long since I last updated this story. I'm sorry about the long waits but I thank everyone who has been patient during these long waits. I hope you enjoy this chapter...Hopefully it was worth the wait.

8: Bounty Hunter

Sven flinched when a blinding white light surrounded him. He thought he had been tricked, that the phrase would actually kill him, but then the light cleared and he was still standing there...Only this time with a briefcase.

Grimmjow stared at it as if it were a bomb. "What the hell? Where did that come from?"

Sven would have answered if he knew, but honestly he was just as stumped as his opponent. He too stared at the suitcase. It looked a lot like his old one; it even had the secret triggers and buttons all over it. But this case was different. It was emanating some kind of energy...

Surprised? This is your zanpakuto Sven. Go ahead, open it.

Cautiously Sven undid the latches and opened the case. Inside he found a stylish-looking handle. It almost looked like an oversized switch-blade, packed snugly within velvet padding. He stared at it in stunned awe. His old suitcase had a lot of strange weapons hidden away inside but never had he placed anything like this in there. This was all too strange for his liking. It had to be a dream, his subconscious keeping him occupied while he died.

Draw your weapon. Your opponent will not stand around forever.

Sven set down the case and took out the handle. He pressed a small latch near the guard and a shining steel blade slid out, extending to the length of a sword. As soon as his eyes caught his own shocked reflection he couldn't help but laugh. He swung the sword around a few times to get used to its weight and then he held it out before himself defensively.

The blue-haired demon grinned once more at the glint of steel. "So, you can fight huh? This will be fun!" Grimmjow drew his sword and charged without a moment's hesitation.

Sven panicked instantly. He had never fought with a sword; in fact that was probably why he chose to use a gun...So he could kill from a distance before he would have to rely on close-quarters-combat. Now he had no trusty pistol to help him and even if he did, bullets would probably be like pebbles against this psychopath. There was no choice anymore; he would have to swing a sword for his own survival.

Despite having no idea what he was doing he managed to block a heavy downwards swing. He struck his blade out to catch that of his opponent and then crouched down to better sustain the impact. Amazingly it worked and the crazed swordsman was knocked back by the jarring impact. As he staggered back Sven slashed madly at his gut, but failed to get within range. Grimmjow stepped back and thrust his knee into Sven's face, hurling him back into the rubble.

"Ha! You got lucky then. I won't let you block next time. Now get up and charge at me! Let's see what you've got!" Grimmjow was dripping with ferocity, like a wolf over a wounded deer. He could smell weakness and it drove him mad.

Sven cursed under his breath and took a shaky step forward.

Ok Sven. Think for a second. This guy is stronger than you and he obviously knows how to handle a sword better...But there has to be a way to beat him. I wonder...Is he injured? No. He's fitter than I was before I started smoking. Damn! Well I guess I've just got to trick him then...

Sven darted to the left and Grimmjow followed him with his hawk-like gaze. Sven circled around and moved in for a strike. Grimmjow only just barely tensed up but it was enough for his trick to work. As the mad warrior reached out to defend himself Sven dived to the side, out of Grimmjow's reach and instead at his feet. Before he could look down Sven drove his blade deep into his leg, piercing the flesh of his thigh and slicing down towards his knee.

Grimmjow punched Sven in the back of the head and booted him in the gut, sending him rolling away from him. While the sweeper coughed up blood Grimmjow examined his wound and tested his wounded leg. It hurt to walk now and he had to limp over to his foe.

"That actually hurt...But you know you're gonna have to pay for that right?"

Sven swung his sword to keep him at bay, but the demon caught the sword with his bare hand. Rather than take the time to be stunned Sven let go of the sword and dived out of striking distance.

Dammit! He's too strong. Even with that wounded leg I can't beat him. I can't risk dying here. I need to live on...So I can see Eve just one more time...

"Come on!" Grimmjow snapped. "We aren't done yet!"

Sven didn't look back. He just ran as fast his beaten body would allow. Unfortunately, his opponent wasn't in the mood for playing tag. The madman swung Sven's sword around in a circle several times and then released his grip, flinging the incredibly sharp blade across the battlefield and into the unfortunate sweeper's spine.

Sven froze mid-step and his feet crumbled beneath him as if made of rubber. He collapsed to the cold hard ground and stared at the crimson pool spreading around him. He couldn't stop blinking, as if he had sand in his eye. The pain was excruciating and every single breath was torture. He coughed violently and blood oozed out between his teeth, filling his mouth and spilling down his lips.

"Ha ha! Gotcha!" Grimmjow called out mockingly, his laughter like poison. He limped casually towards his prey, after all Sven was trapped. The deer was caught in a net now, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. No more defences...Unless…

Out of the corner of his eye Sven noticed his suitcase. If it was the same as his old case...It just might be able to save his life. If he was wrong, he would die. However Sven did not want to surrender just yet.

He remembered how much Eve suffered to protect him. He remembered that sweet little girl, her beautiful golden hair, as soft as silk. Her hypnotic gaze, her innocent little smile. She was everything to him. She was like the daughter he never had and he loved her dearly. That was why he would never let the darkness take her away. He would reunite with her no matter how much pain it caused him. He would endure the worst just to see her again, just to hear her voice.

Sven extended a hand towards the briefcase, but it was just out of reach. He inched closer and closer, grunting from the effort of pushing his leaden body towards it.

Grimmjow closed in on him, limped awkwardly, but still gaining ground fast. "Still trying to crawl away? You're like a little beetle scurrying away from me. But why don't you just stand your ground and use your stinger?"

Sven reached out and he felt one finger only just brush against its cold casing. He tried to grip it but he was still too far away.

"Hold on now, I ain't letting you go on holidays!" Grimmjow drove his blade down through the top of Sven's hand, pinning it to the ground, only centimetres away from the case.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!"

Sven's hand spasmed uncontrollably, only making the pain worse. The blade was stuck deep in the earth. There was no way he could take it out. He was gone now.

"Ha ha ha! What now? Let's see you run away this time!"

"I...I can't..." Sven murmured to himself.

"Damn right! So how about you try and take out my other leg now? Come on!" The beast taunted, laughing like a feral hyena.

Sven closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As he looked up again he had a grim little smile, "That's some good advice." he joked, digging his fingers into the soil. He hauled himself forward, screaming in agony. As soon as his fingers wrapped around the handle of his suitcase Sven dragged it towards his chest and spun it around to face his opponent. Then he pressed a button on the underside of the handle. A section of the case slid away and a gun barrel poked out. When he pressed the button again a great blinding burst of fire erupted from the barrel and a stream of bullets chewed through Grimmjow's centre mass.

Sven roared, holding the trigger down as hard as he could, mowing Grimmjow down with an entire clipful of armour piercing rounds.

The blue-haired demon lay still, even though his chest was still rising and falling. It had not killed him, but it would keep him down for a while. Meanwhile Sven gently drifted out of consciousness and passed out.

Grimmjow's comrades stopped their search and scanned the horizon. Shawlong looked to the blonde warrior and frowned. "It appears Grimmjow has been attacked."

"What should we do?" Illfort asked.

Shawlong grasped his chin and hummed. "If our leader is incapacitated then there is a warrior out there who is above our capabilities. We should withdraw for now and call off the search."

"What? Why don't we just burn down one of these villages and draw the enemy here while we search elsewhere?"

Shawlong sighed. "We do not want to draw unwanted attention upon ourselves. This mission was to be carried out without being detected. It seems master Grimmjow has lost sight of that."

"Damn. I guess we should go find him and bring him back for Lord Aizen. He would be angry if Grimmjow were to be lost so soon." Illfort turned to leave when he spotted someone's shadow behind them. He whirled around to face a young man with odd, feline eyes.

"Excuse me, could you help me find a friend? His name is Sven Volfied."

The two warriors glanced at each other curiously and nodded. Shawlong stepped forward and bowed. "It is my duty to aid the wandering souls here. I shall help you find your friend...Sven was it?"

"Yes. Thanks so much. I really appreciate it." Train walked alongside them through the empty streets. "So...Why are your uniforms white and everyone else's is black?"

The two looked to each other and Shawlong conjured a passable lie. "We are guards. Those on guard duty wear different colours so that they can be easily identified in a crowd."

"Oh...I didn't know that." Train murmured.

"New here huh?" Illfort asked casually.

"Well sort of. I mean I'm not even dead. A friend of mine called Kisuke Urahara created a portal here so that I could find Sven. He came with me but we split up to make the search easier." Train explained innocently, oblivious to the villainous creatures he was befriending.

"You are in good company then. Urahara is famous around here." Shawlong stated calmly.

"Yeah. I was told he was once a captain but he was banished for something..." Train frowned. "I wonder what he could have done to deserve such punishment."

The trio travelled in silence after that. The plan was simply to act awkward and offended to stop Train asking any more questions. For now they just had to find Sven and then slaughter both of the foolish mortals who dared tread into the affairs of the dead.

They soon discovered a village in ruins. The buildings were decimated and the ground torn up as if a bomb had gone off there. There were corpses all over the place and amidst it all, Grimmjow, leaning against a large chunk of stone. His chest was horribly scarred and dried blood had congealed over a terrible series of wounds. He faced his minions and grinned.

Train's eyes widened at the sight of the wounded warrior. "What the hell happened to you?"

Grimmjow ignored the question and faced the Black Cat with a scowl. "Who are you?"

"Uh, my name is Train Heartnett."

Shawlong bowed before his master. "He is searching for a friend named Sven Volfied. I suggest we help him."

"No need." Grimmjow snarled. "I already found him!" He lunged forward and grabbed Train by the throat. The former assassin struggled to push Grimmjow back and felt his eyes starting to roll back in his skull. In a fit of panic he smashed his gun Hades into the monster's head.

Train grasped his throat and coughed. "What is wrong with you? Where is Sven?"

Illfort stepped between the two and pointed his blade at the assassin. "Ha! You don't get it do you? We aren't shinigami. Are you really that dumb? Ha! You don't deserve to die by master Grimmjow's hand. I'll deal with you myself!"

Train backed away and loaded his gun. "You bastards! What are you then?"

"We are arrancar." Shawlong explained. "Were you not at all curious about our masks? Your failure to differentiate between the strength of an arrancar and a shinigami is rather insulting to us. We shall have to punish you for such insolence."

Train cursed and stood his ground, despite being outnumbered three to one.

Damn! How could I have been so stupid? There's no way I can take on three of these guys at once. The one with blue hair...He's strong...Very strong. I had better be careful around him.

"Enough talk! Die!" Illfort charged, thrusting his sword out towards Train's throat. The well-trained assassin ducked beneath the blow and drove his knee into the blonde warrior's gut. Illfort coughed violently and doubled over leaving him prone to being hit again. Train pistol whipped him and then roundhouse kicked him, sending Illfort spinning off into a pile of rubble.

Shawlong raised his sword high and rushed in to attack but Train caught sight of him and responded quickly. He raised his gun, ready to block but then Shawlong vanished.

Shunpo? Dammit! Where is he?

The glint of steel caught his eye and Train whirled around to face his attacker and block, just before his scalp was sliced clean off. He stumbled back from the force of the blow and struggled to regain his footing, especially when Shawlong stepped forward and continued his offensive. Train was getting pushed into a corner now. He felt his back collide with the stone wall and he cursed at his own misfortune. He couldn't manoeuvre around Shawlong's attacks properly anymore and he felt the cold bite of steel quite a few times.

Train gritted his teeth and ducked down low, avoiding a vicious stab from his foe. The blade sank into the stone and remained stuck there for a moment. Train took the opportunity to shove Shawlong back and then using the sword embedded in the wall as a foothold, launched himself high into the air, somersaulting across the battlefield and landing in a crouch several metres away.

Shawlong and Illfort both stared at their opponent, who now wielded a shining katana. Train grinned at them and charged.

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