He spent many days in that white castle, fighting and clawing his way through the creatures that sought to do harm to him and his family. The concepts were different, the deaths were not honored, and the beings did not care what happened among them. Eventually Grimmjow became aware of the thin customs that governed the large castle. At the time he knew not of his rank among them; he simply thought that he was a being sent there to hunt in safety. That was entirely wrong, and much of the place he had to explore and learn about on his own.

After a while, he learned that the ones who offered them sanctuary were powerful Shinigami, "Death Gods" as some would say, who came from a land that he did not know. The most powerful of the three was the man who had named him, Aizen Sosuke. He knew better than to venture near him, nor would he allow his family to investigate either. The creature didn't trust the powerful man, even though he had given him a new life. There was no way he could place trust in such a being. But even with that said, it wasn't even him that made Grimmjow nervous; it was the white-haired one who always seemed beside the man.

The being was known as Ichimaru Gin.

He resembled a fox, in a way, with a shifty face and his tendency to stay hidden in the shadows. It almost seemed like his duty to wander the halls and make everything uncomfortable. Most of the other beings in the white castle avoided him, keeping out of his path so as to not invoke his anger. Grimmjow had never seen Ichimaru angry, but he figured that it was something that no one wanted to be around for. So he avoided both Aizen Sosuke and Ichimaru Gin as much as he could.

There was another, a third man who shadowed them, but at the point in time, Grimmjow could care less about him. He was blind, his power was low, and the creature did not feel fear in this one's presence. He did not make him nervous like the other two did. So he simply left the man alone and swerved to avoid him when he went out to hunt.

Grimmjow began to hear new words whispered among the many creatures, things like hollow, Espada, Arrancar. He was what was called a hollow, a being that lost their way to the other side. His family were hollows as well. This explained why they had a pressing need to kill and devour souls; they were always hungry, no matter what they did.

He became aware of the "Arrancar" word soon after that. Aizen Sosuke granted many of them a new power, something that Grimmjow had been secretly searching for since he had met Kinomi. It was the ability to turn into a human.

They weren't quite human just yet, however, nor did it allow them to shift freely. It was a process, and if Grimmjow had known how much it would hurt beforehand, he might have said no. Everything about it was painful, and many of them withered on the floor as their blood flowed. Some did not survive the pain; the ones that did were rewarded.

It began as if Aizen had torn his chest open. The pain turned into fire that surged from his chest and ran along his body. His bones began to shift, cracking and turning into something new. The bone protecting his lethal body shifted and clicked away, turning to skin. Thick fur turned into long, untamed hair down his back. Legs made for running became arms, paws turned into hands, and claws turned into fingers. Something pressed against his right cheek and fused itself there, and the feral being hissed at the pain.

Despite the pain he was forced to endure, Grimmjow found it worth it. He now had something more, something that he could put to good use.

He had become a human.

The reward was a place within Aizen's army, marked for success. At first, Grimmjow spent his years with the weaker "Arrancars," as they were called, slowly fighting his way through the ranks. It seemed like a pointless, endless cycle. But eventually his efforts were rewarded once more. This is when he learned of the "Espada." They were powerful beings, able to destroy any number of lesser beings without so much as lifting an arm. But he did not fear him; they were simply a challenge to overcome.

Grimmjow fought and fought, and eventually, he managed to secure one of these spots for himself. He became known as the Sexta Espada. No longer did petty Arrancar spit on the ground he walk on, no longer was he looked down upon; he was frightening now. He had powerful, experience, and the ability to use it. The new rush was amazing and he immediately fell in love with the amazing feeling.

His friends were overjoyed as well; he had found a way to keep them close to his side. "Fracciones," as the other Espada referred to them as. They were an Espada's 'tools.' Grimmjow didn't like that word, hated it in fact. His friends were his friends, not his tools.

Along with his friends came rivals, Espada that he either disliked or tolerated.

His least favourite of them all was the Cuarto, otherwise known as Schiffer Ulquiorra. The feral being immediately disliked him; he had more power, held a higher rank, and most of all, he was an emotionless zombie. No matter what was said or what happened to him, the being never once showed anger upon his face. He did not react, he did not care, and he brushed it all off as if nothing was worth his presence.

But most of all, Grimmjow hated being called trash.

Even with this rivalry, he actually found someone else even more infuriating than Ulquiorra. He was feiry, hot-headed, loud, and annoying, and Grimmjow hated him.

And yet ... He felt like something was familiar about the stupid human. He couldn't tell what it was but the feeling nagged at the back of his mind, tugging at his thoughts and directing all of his attention towards the images that kept eluding him.

Their first 'real' encounter occurred in a place called Karakura, a town that Grimmjow couldn't care less about. The orange-haired kid had passion, wanting to win. The feral being, used to countless battles, absolutely adored the fight. He had much fun until he heard the cries of his teammates, no, his friends, dying. Their sounds - help me, Grimmjow, I'm sorry, forgive me - all engraved themselves within his mind.

That night, for the first time since he had died, Grimmjow had nightmares.

Can't say I'm a fan of this one. I don't really like the direction it took I guess. Aaaanyways, yes, there will be dialogue eventually, but my goal is to tell this through the eyes and thoughts of Grimmjow, not in a story format with dialogue and character interactions. It's a writing style that I've been wanting to try for a long time now. Hope you enjoyed!