Chapter 1 - The End

Grimmjow Jaeggerjaquez flattened himself against the wall of a house, grateful for the shade it provided from the main street, and allowed himself a small moment of reprieve. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest, causing his breath to come out in harsh pants. At once he quietened his breathing, using up precious seconds. He shook his head. He wasn't allowed to think like that. To defeat the creature, he needed to be as quiet as possible. Once his body was back under control, he peered around the corner to the street. He couldn't see it, but he could hear the Undead's footsteps and feel the trembles they caused and hear its ragged, wet noise that passed for breathing. Grimmjow leaned back against the wall and took a deep, grounding breath, letting it out slowly. He silently sheathed his sword, Pantera, and sped towards the wall only a few paces away. Grimmjow jumped, springing up and away once his foot connected the wall, turning his body so he could spring up once more as his foot touched the wall where he was just leaning moments ago. He continued jumping from wall to wall until he reached the roof where he pulled himself up and immediately went on his stomach and stilled. If he made any sound, the Undead would be on him in no time at all. The seconds slipped by painstakingly slow, but Grimmjow had to be efficient, silent and as emotionless as possible. It didn't matter that he could hear the god-awful screams of his village, of the poor children, of the mothers, of the fathers, and the vulnerable elderly. He had to shut them out. He needed to be clear-headed. The quicker he destroyed the grotesque thing, the safer his village would be. Certain the one he was stalking hadn't heard him, he sprung to his feet in a crouch. Frowning, he looked around. The Undead was not in his immediate area anymore. He must have moved in search of a fresh victim. Leaping from roof to roof, Grimmjow used his training and instinct to help locate the one he had lost. Although, it wasn't too hard to locate the preternatural beings. Defeating them was the real challenge, but it was what he was trained to do.
The Undead were noisy things. Their breathing sounded unearthly, almost gasping that ripped from their throats, their uneven steps caused slight tremors in the ground itself as if the earth couldn't stand its existence as it groaned and shuddered at its touch. The creatures' bodies cracked and creaked as their bones rubbed together and popped. Their voice, when they choose to use it, grated on the ears and through nerves, physically causing pain, however, they could move faster than any man, but they seldom did so and are stronger too. They possessed gifts, a parody, a mere shadow of what the living Nosferatu were bestowed, but they were still dangerous, acting mainly on instinct. After years of training, the Hunters of the village were able to go mostly undetected by them which gave them an advantage if the village was ever attacked. And it was. Often. This village was only a human village, making it easy pickings for these monsters. No other supernatural beings bothered them, not even to trade or seek shelter on their journeys as it was further away from any other village and even further away from the city. It was a blessing and a curse.
There was a sound, faint and high pitched. Grimmjow's heart immediately leapt and stuttered, his ears straining and his eyes wide and searching. He slowed his pace and got down low on the roof to peer over the edge into the poorly lit alley. Not undead, but a small boy. Relief washed over him and he let out the air he was holding. Even though it was his duty to fight these abominations, as a Hunter if he never saw one again it would still be too soon. The boy had squished himself between the wall of a house and a stack of wooden crates. It was a good idea, he was well hidden, but if the Undead had heard his whimper, the child would be helpless to run away. The little boy instantly recognised Grimmjow and teared up. He put a hand to his mouth to stop himself from crying out again. Grimmjow's heart was in his throat and was both saddened and proud of the boy for that. As young as he was, he knew the danger they were both in and that crying out wasn't going to help them. A child shouldn't have to live in fear. They should be laughing and joyous and have no care in the world, yet here this child was, not even 5 years old, knowing fear, knowing danger… Knowing death. Quickly glancing around to be certain they were alone, Grimmjow swung from the roof to the ground and fished out the boy. He picked him up and hugged him tightly, whispering that it was going to be okay. Confident that they were still alone, Grimmjow sprinted in the opposite direction that he needed to be. It pained him to do so, but the child had to be safe first. He easily made his way through the decimated village, holding the boy's head to his shoulder to shield him from the blood and gore and the people littering the ground. He was shaking like a leaf as it was, holding back his sobs. He didn't need to see this. Finally, they reached their destination. It was a small safe house. One room with a bed in the corner, a table against a wall and a fire pit set into the wall opposite with a woven rug pushed to the side. The last person here didn't put everything back. They were probably in a rush to find their family after the last raid. Grimmjow stepped inside, the boy still clinging to him. Once the door was closed and the window covers shut, he sagged against the wall. He was so tired, his body was protesting, his muscles were becoming tight and lethargy was starting to kick in so his limbs were feeling heavy and leaden. The attack came early, as soon as the sun set below the horizon, and had been going on most of the night. The village itself wasn't big, but it was quite populated, a feast for the creatures. Grimmjow had destroyed six already and saved many people, but his job was far from over. As he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, the child looked up at him with his big, innocent, green eyes.
"Are you okay Mr. Hunter?" Grimmjow's heart fluttered at his concern and gave him a smile he didn't feel.
"Yeah, I'm okay little man. Just resting. C'mon, let's get you somewhere safe." He pushed off the wall and walked to the middle of the room, crouching to inspect the trap door. Before he reached for the handle to pull it open, the boy shifted in his arms to look at him again.
"I can walk, Mr. Hunter. I'm a big boy."
"Okay then," Grimmjow said softly, putting the boy on the ground. "Stand back while I open this door." The boy did as he was asked and Grimmjow heaved the door open. There beckoned a decent-sized hole, big enough that he and the child could fit through easily. He motioned the boy to come over and held his shoulders gently, trying to give the boy a semblance of comfort.
"We need to go in here, okay?" he warned, looking him in the eyes. "Can you do that for me?" The boy nodded, eyes slightly wide with fear. He squeezed his shoulders reassuringly then jumped down the hole, landing with the ease of practice. The space was deep enough that he could stand at his full height, with his arms stretched above his head and still have a few metres above them. The poor boy couldn't see him now.
"Okay little man, you are going to trust me again. I know you can't see me, but I can see you. I need you to jump down. I'll catch you. I promise. Can you do it?" he called up. He could see how scared the boy was still, but he could also see his resolve. He set his shoulders and sat on the edge of the opening.
"Yes."
"Okay. Whenever you are ready." The boy looked down, took a breath and pushed himself off the ledge. Grimmjow caught him easily and set him down on his feet. Luckily, there was space for another small person, so there was enough room to manoeuvre about. This hideaway was smaller than the other safety areas further in the heart of the village. This one was meant for those who were tending to the edges of the village. Grimmjow took a moment to gather himself to fight away the exhaustion, to ignore his aching body and to prepare for his next move. What he was about to ask of the boy was unfair, but he needed to help his fellow Hunters rid the village of the unnatural creatures. He squatted as best he could to get to the boy's level, once again squeezing his shoulders in comfort.
"Alright. Here comes another hard part," he began, looking into his eyes, "You see that space there?" — he pointed to a hole in the wall at ground level — "I need you to crawl in there. There should be an opening at the end that's big enough for you to stand up in. By the sounds of it, no one is in there, so you are going to be alone. When you get in there can you yell back to me?" The brave boy nodded. Grimmjow could already feel him trembling. "Good. When you get in there, I need you to stay until I come back and get you. Okay? I need to leave to get rid of these monsters so that our village is safe. It's going to be dark and scary and you'll hear all sorts of things, but I need you to keep being brave for me. For me and your family. I'm sure that they're worried about you." He wiped away the boy's tears and saw how hard he was trying to keep them in.
"I can do that Mr. Hunter," he replied with a wobbly voice. Grimmjow smiled at him.
"Good," he said. "You know, I can see how strong you are, but you are allowed to cry. It doesn't make you any less strong. Tears are the body's reaction to what's happening. Even I cry." The boy's eyes widened.
"Really?" he asked, hopeful.
"Really," Grimmjow affirmed with a little smile. "Are you ready?" The boy nodded and glanced at the hole in the wall. He sniffed, took a breath and gave Grimmjow a quick hug before he got on his hands and knees and crawled into the opening. It didn't take long for him to reach the little cavern at the end, as he yelled back a mere minute later.
"Well done, little man. I need to leave now. You can do this. I will be back for you and that is a promise."
"Thank you, Mr. Hunter! I can do this so you don't have to worry about me! Just kill those monsters so we can be safe again!" Grimmjow's heart swelled. Children were so precious. In the midst of all this, hiding in the dark, the sounds of death and monsters above him, this child was making sure that he didn't worry about him. He was so strong. But he really shouldn't have to be. He was only a few years old and he should only know fun and freedom and be carefree. His only worry should be a graze on his knee or who to play with. Yet, he had already seen enough violence, gore and death and felt enough terror and horror to last more than one lifetime. Shaking his head to get rid of his sad thoughts and refocus, he called back, "You're welcome and I will!" He scaled back up the hole then slowly and carefully closed the door so he didn't frighten the poor boy. As soon as it fell flat, he was out of the small house and onto the roof. Once again his mind was on the hunt; Clear, focussed and determined. All ailments forgotten. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, rolling as the momentum carried him, towards the sounds of devastation.
He got as close as he dared while using the rooftops, then dropped down in a crouch between two buildings. There weren't many creatures left, but this wave had brought many of them, more than they have had since they first came, many years ago before Grimmjow was even a thought. All around him were bodies. Both civilians and the Undead. It was a mess of debris and gore. Blood covered the walls and the ground, some corpses were on top of the buildings with their dark, viscous blood dripping off the eves and some had their entrails dangling, looking like grotesque decorations.

Don't even start on the smell.

If Grimmjow wasn't accustomed to it all, he would have emptied his stomach right there and then. Breathing through his mouth, he peered around the corner of the house he was hiding behind. He saw the creature gnawing on a body. No, not just a body but his fellow Hunter, Kain, head lolling from side to side as the thing gorged on his insides. He turned back, eyes closed, beating down his feelings. Now wasn't the time. His heart was beating fast, more than usual in these situations and he felt shaky and jittery. He drew in a couple of calming breaths, shaking out his arms and legs and rolling his neck and shoulders. He was ready. He stalked up to the creature willing it to stay occupied on its meal. Drawing his sword, he charged toward the wall adjacent to the Undead, jumped up, kicked off it and readied a side slash aiming for the back of the neck. It landed, but there wasn't enough force to fully decapitate the creature. Immediately it was enraged, the godawful screeching hurt his ears, causing his eardrums to pop and bleed, his bones ached with such force that he struggled to stay standing. It had been a good few months since one of them used their voice with such force. Panting in strain he ran and hid. It would only provide him a few extra seconds but that was all he needed. He needed to breathe away from the oppressive force and recollect himself before he made his final attack. Pushing his pain to the back of his mind with the rest, he quickly climbed the building at his back, ran across the roof as fast as he could, jumped and slashed downwards, using his full weight to slice through the mottled flesh and hardened bone. When he dropped to the floor with a roll, he held his breath and surveyed the area. It was when the Undead's body fell to the ground in a heap and he saw the head rolling that he allowed himself to breathe and relax for a small moment. The urge to drop and sleep was so strong that he almost succumbed. That was the worst and longest wave of Undead they have encountered so he was more than exhausted, but he couldn't stop yet. He needed to help the other Hunters and then get back to the boy and reunite him with his family. He stood tall with a grunt, gritting his teeth as his bones still fiercely ached and his muscles protested in strain, he wiped off the gore from Pantera using his pants and set off towards the sound of battle, once again using the rooftops.
He reached the edge of the village, close to where he hid the boy. A quick glimpse towards the safe house showed that it had been undisturbed. With that fear negated, he looked on at the situation before him. There seemed to only be three creatures left, but the Hunters were wounded and struggling. From his vantage point, Grimmjow would be able to take out one of them in a similar manner to the last one he felled, but he wouldn't be able to reach the others from the roof. Tensing his muscles and holding tight to Pantera he ran and leapt into the air, again adding his weight to the attack and effectively rendering the thing headless. At the sight, the Hunters rejoiced and yelled out his name.
"Hey guys," he replied, standing up from his crouch. He hissed in pain at the lingering effects of the Undead's voice. It wasn't as bad as it had been, although it was wearing off at a slower pace than usual. All his aches and pains and wounds were beginning to catch up with him. He could see the end to the battle so his body was readying him for the rest he sorely needed, but it was premature. They had two Undead left so it could still go sideways. Everyone refocused their attention and with the four of them, they went down easily; One Hunter was a distraction while the others went for the heads. When the last body fell, the Hunters all let their weariness show. Some leaned on the walls of the houses and others, including Grimmjow, sank to the floor.
"What the fuck? Are those things getting harder to take down or what?" a Hunter named Kayleb exclaimed. Another, Annah, piped up adding her thoughts.
"Yeah! That and there are more of them than the last time." Grimmjow could only just make out what they were saying. It was muffled and a little quiet. The Undead burst his eardrums after all. It was made worse by his full-body fatigue. But he knew what they were saying was true. It wasn't something they wanted to hear. They barely had enough Hunters as it was, they had lost some that day and every time a cluster ploughed through, they lost more and more. At this rate, there won't be enough to protect the village. It was a grim thought. Shaking his head and pushing himself off the ground, he quickly cleaned Pantera and put her back in her scabbard then started toward the safe house.
"Where are you going?" asked Darcey, one of their more experienced Hunters.
"I stashed a kid away. He was stuck and I was able to save him before the Undead found him." He turned, hoisted himself back up to the rooftops and sped away towards the brave little boy.

Once inside the little house, he made quick work of the trap door and hopped down the hole. He heard the startled gasp that came from the cavern further within.
"It's okay, little man! It's just me, Mr. Hunter!" Grimmjow yelled into the dark tunnel. Almost immediately the boy cried out, "Mr. Hunter!" as he scrambled out of the cavern and into Grimmjow's arms.
"I – I was brave for you!" he sobbed into his chest. "I didn't make any noise and I stayed very still!" Grimmjow ruffled his hair and held him a little tighter.
"Good job. I am so proud of you and I'm sure your family will be too." They stayed that way for a little while and when Grimmhow felt the boy calm down, he pulled back.
"You know what? I don't know your name. Mine is Grimmjow." The boy wiped his eyes and sniffed.
"Grimmjow? I like that name. My name is Kai."
"Well, Kai, shall we go look for your family?" he offered, standing up, keeping hold of Kai. He mumbled an "Mmhmm," into his neck, then added, "Yes please, Grimmjow."
Grimmjow lifted Kai to sit on his shoulders, explaining that he wanted him to climb out of the hole once they were close enough to the ledge. Once they got balanced and settled, he started to climb, slowly and carefully. It didn't take long before they were back on ground level, putting the door back and leaving the house. As they walked through the village, heading to where they could hear the other villagers congregating, Grimmjow made sure to shield the boy as best he could from the catastrophe around them. When they reached the throng of people, he kept his ears out for anyone calling for Kai. The sun was high in the sky when he began to lose hope. Dread was slowly making its way to the forefront of his mind, telling him that the boy's family was dead. Of course, he wouldn't stop looking until there was definitive proof that they were among those lost.
"Kai!" came a hysterical voice from behind them. They both turned and Kai was already bolting to the lady, to his mother's arms. "Oh my goodness! My baby boy! Are you okay? Where did you go? I was so worried! What happened?" Kai was in tears, the relief washing over him as he continued to nuzzle into his mother.
"I'm okay, mummy. Grimmjow helped me. I got lost and then I got stuck! But he saved me and then killed the monsters." The woman looked up at him.
"Thank you so much for keeping my boy safe. I don't know what I would do if I lost him." The absolute sorrow in her voice at what could have been, made his heart hurt, but her relief and overwhelming love for her son helped to ease some of his pain. It solidified one of the reasons why he chose to become a Hunter. He doesn't want anyone else to be motherless, fatherless or childless.
"You're welcome, ma'am. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Grimmjow asked. She shook her head.
"No, thank you. You've already done so much by bringing Kai back home to me." He nodded and began to walk away, but the lady called back, "Don't be a stranger, okay? You can come around for dinner tonight if you'd like?" He smiled. He had never gotten an offer like this before. He had shared food with his fellow Hunters, but this was different. This was a family. Something he hasn't had in many years.
"That would be nice. Thank you." The woman told him the directions to their home before leaving for home.

As much as Grimmjow wanted to go home and sleep for days, he had to help with the clean-up. In his opinion, this part was worse than fighting the creatures. He had to see the chaos and devastation they left behind. He had to face all the people lost and left without a loved one and look for those not accounted for. He had to be the bearer of bad news as families tried to find their loved ones in the rows upon rows of bodies recovered and he felt immense guilt for not being able to save everyone. This was worse. Emotional pain wasn't something you ever get used to, unlike physical pain. The pain coursed through the body and turned into a physical feeling that only got worse the stronger it was and could easily incapacitate as a blow to the head. Being a protector of the village made the guilt feel worse. Grimmjow could take a beating and would happily give his life if he knew that every single person in his village would be safe. But no matter how hard he and the other Hunters fought, there were always casualties. Every time he lived on, only to find countless others had lost their lives, drove a stake through his heart. Still, he trudged on. He knew that he was one of the strongest Hunters they had and without him and the others, there wouldn't be a village. But it didn't make it any easier.
It was well into the evening by the time everyone missing was found, dead and alive, which meant that it was finally time to burn the bodies. They did this at the edge of the village where they erected a stone with the names of the deceased etched onto it. It was a smelly and sad occasion with most residents not in attendance as they usually visit the memorial stone afterwards. There were too many bodies to bury and with the carcasses of the Undead to tend to, it was easier to burn everything. When the clean-up was done, all the volunteers and Hunters went their separate ways. Grimmjow was halfway to his house when he remembered the lovely offer to have dinner with Kai and his mother. He was looking forward to it.
Since his parents perished in one of the invitations many years ago when he was only 8, he became a recluse. He didn't want to see anyone as it was his way of dealing with his grief. If Grimmjow thought about it now, it probably wasn't the healthiest way to get through it. Through his time alone he felt many things; Grief, fear, but also anger. He was angry at himself for not being able to protect his family, but mostly he was angry at the monsters. The creatures. The Undead. When he became a Hunter he vowed to train as hard as he could. When he was skilled enough to train with real weapons, he allowed himself to take up his father's sword, Pantera. His father had never used it for any form of combat, however, it had been part of his family for a very long time and he had mentioned that it would be Grimmjow's one day. When that day came, he became unstoppable and ruthless. He lived and breathed fighting, but he saved those he could. He didn't want anyone to go through what he did as a child. It was this resolve that kept Grimmjow humble. He was always kind and did the best he could to help the village.
Shaking his head to clear his mind, he started in the direction of Kai's home, a feeling of delightful warmth, a feeling he had forgotten existed, spreading through his body. It was wonderfully welcome after the day he had. He could see the house just up ahead, his heart beating faster in anticipation and his mouth watered as he thought about the food he would get to eat. He was a mere metres away from the entry, smelling the cooked meat when he felt a tremor. He wanted to believe that he was so tired that he was imagining things, but his training told him otherwise. He held his breath and touched the floor with a flat hand. He could have cried when he felt another tremor and then another a few seconds apart. It was definitely the Undead, but only one by the pattern of trembles. He swore and tore himself away from the house, running in the direction of the monster, ignoring his grumbling stomach and his achy body. The warmth he had felt diminished and now in its place was anger and his hatred for the unnatural things. He tracked it down to a forest just outside of the village. It wasn't doing anything, just roaming around, aimless. It was strange as he had believed that these things were perpetually bloodthirsty and had an insatiable hunger. Yet, here it was, going here nor there, taking slow stomping steps. He rushed at it when it's back was turned, readying Pantera for the decapitation swing and jumped, giving his body a spin to gain momentum and power to the blow. It turned and grasped Pantera, stopping Grimmjow's spin abruptly, giving him the feeling of whiplash and disorienting him. None of them had ever been that quick to defend themselves, however, Grimmjow didn't get a chance to recover as the creature gripped his sword tightly and swung it around effectively flinging Grimmjow away as his hand was ripped from his grasp on the hilt. The Undead screeched, the sound once again making his ears bleed, making his bones ache ferociously and giving him full-body pins and needles. Twice in one day did not feel good. His strength was sapped and the longer he lay on the ground, the more his will to move dissipated. It felt good to not move, but he needed to. The creature wasn't going to leave him alone now that he aggravated it. It was already thudding its way over, eyes piercing, body creaking and popping and its thin lips pulled back in something akin to a sneer. His head was pounding, every fibre of his being hurt and screamed when he tried to move. He couldn't breathe properly from the pain, but the thing was getting closer. From seemingly nowhere, he got the strength to roll to his front and put his hands and knees under him. The amount of strain the simple movement made took his breath away, although he didn't have the luxury to try and get it under control. He crawled away as fast as he could, trying to reach the closest tree. He was planning to use it as a support to help him stand and as a shield to put something between them. However, he wasn't fast enough. The Undead stepped on his left leg, stopping him in his tracks and crushing his bones. The gnarled nails that were more like talons, ripped the flesh and tore great gaping wounds. Grimmjow roared. It was too much. He was in so much pain. He didn't have Pantera, his leg was useless and he could barely move. He bashed his head into the dirt a few times with his fist clenched on either side.
Suddenly, there was a moment of clarity. It was almost euphoric. The pain was numbed, sounds were dulled, his sight sharpened and power flooded his muscles. What happened next couldn't be described as just instinct because Grimmjow was already accustomed to feeding off it. This was something different. He had never been close to dying before. He had never been so injured that he couldn't move. This was pure and innate. He had to survive. He crawled forward, ripping what was left of his leg away from the creature, then he got to his good foot and whipped around to pounce at it. He went for the throat, gnawing and pulling. The creature flailed, swiping its clawed hands at his sides trying to get him off. Finally, the creature crumpled and stopped moving. When it fell, Grimmjow followed landing on the ground with a thud and rolling painfully. He ended up on his back, right arm pinned under him, his full leg had pins and needles from overexertion, the other, a bloody mess with nothing but bits of skin, muscle and sinew below the thigh. The high wore off, allowing his senses to come back. He realised he was slightly cold, absolutely exhausted and was not able to move at all. He noted that he had lost a lot of blood and had pushed himself further than he had gone before. His mouth tasted foul and if he had the energy he would have thrown up. He couldn't believe that he used his teeth. Either way, he was exhausted, he couldn't move and if it was possible, he was in even more pain. He didn't remember if he was injured more during his attack, but he couldn't lift a finger to even check. He had blood in his mouth, he could feel it in his throat but he was finding that he really didn't care. Everyone was safe once again. Kai and his mother were safe.

He was done. There was nothing he could do.

He found that he was sad. Not scared, not angry… just sad. Sad that he missed the first family dinner he could have had in years, although he didn't mind that he got to protect them one last time. He tried to breathe in but bloody saliva got caught in his throat making him cough and choke. More viscous liquid bubbled up from within his chest, coming out the sides of his mouth. He wasn't sure how long he had been lying there, suffering and on the verge of falling unconscious but it felt like a lifetime before everything finally went dark.

Notes:

Thank you everyone who likes this story. This will probably the sole work I'll be concentrating on for a while. If this site goes down, I do have this and other works on AO3.
I would also like to mention that I have opened up a : Taurie Lucas where you can chat with me and other patrons (when I get them haha) There will be more, I just need to learn more about the site.

I also don't know why this site won't keep my formatting. I do apologise.