Chapter Seven

Three halls—or was it four?—and I had already lost all sense of what direction I was going in. It had been a farce to even think I could find my way out of this hole; what was I thinking? I wasn't even aware of where the building I was in was located; I could have been in another country entirely and not have known it.

Stupid idea or not, there was no way I was going to back down at that point. Even if I had wanted to, I wouldn't have been capable of finding my room again.

Hunger pains were gnawing at my stomach. How much time had passed since my abduction was difficult to discern, but I hadn't had a morsel to eat since then. I was thirsty, too, and I only had a limited amount of water left in my bottle.

The next time I plan an escape, I need to plan ahead. Being prepared was one thing my mother had attempted to instill in me, but it had apparently not stuck as well as it had on Mizuki.

In spite of not knowing where I was or where I was going I continued on walking, allowing myself to relax the farther away I got from my room. With the more time that passed, the more it seemed like I was never going to run into anyone; it was like no one had even noticed that I had wandered out of the room and if they had, they probably didn't care.

Or they couldn't find me; there was always that.

"I'm going to eat my arm off before I ever find my way out," I muttered to myself as I entered another intersection and chose to continue going forward. I was so hungry, and I couldn't even smell any food. My hands, when I looked at them, seemed to be increasing with their shaking, so I didn't look at them often. I kept my wits about and continually looked around for any signs that might lead to either food or a way out or, if I was lucky, both.

When I finally came to another intersection, I hesitated for a moment. Heaving a sigh, I chose to take a right instead of continuing my path forwards.

My steps slowed as I got farther and farther down the hall: it seemed darker than the others, the silence more eerie and threatening. Although I couldn't see it all that well, I could tell that once I reached the end of the hall I wouldn't be able to continue going forward; there was just a wall. Had I made my way into a dead end hall? I hoped not. I didn't want to backtrack, not after having come so far.

When I did reach that point, I looked both left and right. To the left, the hallway continued into absolute darkness. To the right, however, I could see two forms at the end in the dim light. They were close together, but one of their voices was raised.

". . . give a fuck!" I heard, and I recognized it somewhat. It was the blue haired man, of that I was certain. He sounded frustrated, almost angry.

Against better judgment I went down the hall to the right, closer to the couple. The nearer to them I got, the more I became worried.

One of them was definitely the blue haired man, but the other I had never seen before. I couldn't necessarily make out anything about him from the distance and the lighting, but he was dressed in the same monochromatic colors I had been forced into.

Their heads were close together; the one I was familiar with was rigid, his posture intimidating compared to the other man—or was it a woman?—who simply looked relaxed. When he spoke, I couldn't make out the words, but when the other spoke, the one with the blue hair, he was shouting with such force and so quickly that I could really only make out every third word; all of them were profane.

What really was queer about the whole situation was that the closer I got to them, the more I realized that their faces were within kissing distance of each other.

Halfway down the hall, I wondered if I should turn around and go the other way. If I interrupted a lovers' spat, things could get messy very quickly. The whole point of me getting out of that room in the first place was to escape, and if I attracted the attention of someone who actually was aware of me being there would work against my goal. Either way if I was noticed, things would go even farther downhill for me.

"Your charge escaped, Grimmjow." My footsteps faltered as two sets of eyes immediately darted to me. I was about to turn around, to creep the other way and down the other hallway, but my plans were foiled. Well, there goes any chance of escape. With this faux pas, they were likely going to lock me in a small room and never let me out.

They would probably never let me eat again, either.

Their heads were still creepishly close together. I didn't take another step; the two men were still covered in darkness.

"Uh. . . I can totally explain?" I said meekly. The blue haired man's—Grimmjow, I suppose—frown increased. He had looked furious before, but upon seeing me it seemed to increase two-fold. "I mean, you know, I didn't meant to interrupt this little rendezvous, but uh . . ."

And suddenly, the other guy disappeared. I had never caught his name, or even a good look at his face, but it didn't seem to really matter. What really mattered at that moment was the fact that I had incurred the wrath of a man who didn't like to be undermined or bettered. I didn't know those two things for certain, but from the time I had spent with him it was fairly obvious.

I took a step backwards, and somehow my back ended up flush against the wall. Grimmjow took a handful of threatening steps towards me. Out of nervousness, I began to babble.

"I understand; you're totally into him, and that's perfectly fine. He's just not into you. But you can like anyone you want to, and to hell with anyone who says you can't. Heck, I would tap th-"

My words ended in a shriek as he smashed his fist into the wall just inches away from my head. I was too frightened to move; I could feel myself shaking, and it was more than just my hands. His face was centimeters away from mine, features contorted into a scowl, blue eyes bright with anger.

"Or, you know, if you don't want to talk about it that's fine. That's totally fine." My voice came out in a shaky whisper, barely audible to my own ears. "Forget I even said anything."

He continued to glare at me intensely for a few moments more before smashing his fist into the wall again and abruptly stalking off down the hall in the direction from whence I came.

My legs went out from under me and I slid down the wall, coming to rest when my ass was on the floor. My lips were quivering, my vision blurred and out of focus.

"Get up." When I didn't make a move, he hauled me to my feet by my hood. "Walk. Back to your room." He sounded furious. With heavy feet, I followed him blindly.

Kill him.

I froze for a moment, stumbling. Grimmjow kept walking, completely ignorant. It was for the better.

Kill him, kill him, kill him. Strike him when he's not looking. Snap his neck. Stab him. Kill him, kill him.

My fingers twitched.

Immediately, I reached for the pill bottle and water in my messenger bag. With trembling hands, I managed to get a pill into my mouth and washed down with water. Unfortunately, it would take at least thirty minutes for it to take effect. But I could do this; I could ignore the voice, I would not bend to its will.

You can't ignore me. Not forever. It was a whisper, whereas the other words had been shouts. It was a whisper full of promises yet to come, of promises to be broken. The voice frightened me far more than Grimmjow and his fists and his sword and his anger. It frightened me because I knew it was right; I wouldn't be able to resist it's commands, not for forever. At some point I was going to break; I was going to do exactly what it told me.

But that won't be today. It hopefully won't be for a long, long time.

Three chapters in three days? That's a little crazy for me. Oops.

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