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The Mirrors Of My Soul	By : JohnFreechman Category: Bleach > General Views: 964 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any characters and make no moneyz off of this fic. I also do not own the song quotes...that's why they're called quotes.

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The Mirrors Of My Soul

Prologue

In Death Comes Life
I am the bringer of hate

Evil reigns supreme on earth

Defenders of the blackest faith

Which strengthen my inner glow

Mind expanding inner journey

From a grim and bitter soul

Misanthropic violent hellblast

It's darker than you think... ~'It's Darker Than You Think,' Carpathian Forest

San Diego, California, United States of America; June 1^st, 1995
While two months pregnant, she had fulfilled her deadly duties. She had destroyed her enemies. She had kept the power for her own, and her power had grew even as she had safeguarded it forever. Even since then she had thought she would be safe to settle down, give her unborn son life and raise him until he was ready to be at her side for the dangerous duties he would grow up to execute...well, no matter what came her way, whether love or parenthood (and the love had been lost, unfortunately), she would always desire her deadly duties. And her son, being a part of her, would be the same way. That was a fact, and not just her opinion she thought was a fact: it was a definite fact; this coming from an unbiased source that is not her.
Nine months pregnant, expecting literally any second now, she ground her teeth in fury as she felt them coming. She knew those cunts would stab her in the back, but she did not know they would go as low to do it while her unborn child was due at any moment. Even though she knew she was going to die tonight, burdened by the being within her, she grinned nevertheless. In one hand she held a platinum plated .357 Desert Eagle handgun, the grip made of a rough black rubber, and the plates on either side of the handle were made purely of pearl; and on those plates were two seals. On the left was a round ruby seal with a rose carved into the small circular diamond; and on the right was a sapphire diamond, carved into that was an orca.
Her other hand she laid her hand on her swollen belly for just a moment, the last time she would ever get to feel her son, before taking said hand and stowing a small piece of paper in her pants pocket. They were almost here now, they weren't afraid to destroy the entire suburb to kill her if they had to. Well, she wouldn't let all those innocent people die, even if she thought the majority of them were a bunch of first-world bratty pretentious fucks.
“Damn...” she muttered, their reiatsu weighing on her; they hadn't gained much strength since she last saw them seven months ago, but with her pregnancy she found she was more susceptible to the intensity of the reiatsu. And they had brought henchmen too! she realized as she felt lighter reiatsu tagging along with them. They would be on her street in about ten second's time now. She summonsed some telekinetic energy and caused the telephone pole transformers all along the block to explode in a shower of sparks, knocking out power for most of the suburb. Her house went dark and she grinned as she slipped sunglasses over her eyes; her view through the glasses automatically changing in form: her vision was now mostly green, making out the fuzzy geometries of the inside of her dark house; and beings with strong reiatsu would be a bright white.
Now they were here. Spinning the pistol on her index finger casually she turned to look out the window. Four figures stood side by side in the street, their right hands on the hilts of their sheathed Zanpakutō, and no doubt under their overcoats were their Varðmanns. The other six figures standing before the first four must be the good-as-dead henchmen. She grinned wolfishly as she ceased spinning her Varðmann and connected her reiryoku to the weapon.
And her Varðmann spoke to her into her mind, When you pass and I go onto your descendant, I will serve and protect him to the best of my ability; that is, of course, if he can convince me I should. A bit of slyness he usually showed before a fight; the rest of the time he was plain.
“I'd slap him silly if he couldn't convince you,” she replied.
Maybe that would get him to convince me.
“I'm sure he'll be just fine without me,” she shot back as the six henchmen slunk towards her house, taking different routes to find various points of entry.
I concur. Go on then, my old friend. Let's have a triumphant defeat together. With that she spun around with her Varðmann held in both hands, not even needing to use the sight to take aim and pierce one henchman's head through a window as he passed it by. A small flash of blue light erupted from the barrel of the Varðmann with a sharp crack—almost sounding like a gunshot, but with an electrical tinge to it, more felt than heard—and when it impacted the henchman's noggin it sent the body flying headless and bloody. Her front door crashed open and two of them charged in, their Zanpakutō drawn and thirsting for her blood, but with expert precision two reiryoku bullets shattered the blades of the low level henchmen. She smiled as they were actually smart enough to run away instead of locking up and pulling stupid faces like those types usually did. Her four former acquaintances outside didn't even lift a finger to stop them as they blitzed down the dark street to get the fuck away.
Three to go. She waited for a few seconds; she already knew where they were, she was just waiting for the dumbasses to finish their brilliant (they thought) ambush. Above her there was the sound of a blade running through wood, the cut so fine it didn't even cause the sheet rock of the immediate ceiling above her to chip and cause dust. The large circle of the second floor fell smoothly down, but she calmly stepped aside as it crashed onto the floor where she was only a moment before. As she stepped out of the way and the person standing on the circle staggered slightly in the impact, she serenely raised her Varðmann and pulled the trigger. A hole in his chest, the henchman soundlessly flew into the air, until his body shattered the window loudly and he landed on the lawn outside with a thump.
She fell to a knee as she felt two oncoming Zanpakutō race towards her head; they missed by inches and instead clashed to each other. In a flash she shot the henchman in front of her, then turned her arm to the other one behind her and finished him off, barely twisting her body. She grunted as she got to her feet, grimacing as her royally pissed baby boy threw a tantrum inside her.
“Meh,” said a familiar voice behind her. She knew it was pointless, so she only half-heartedly snapped her Varðmann arm in the direction of the voice and fired off a reiryoku bullet. It only shot through a wall, leaving a three inch wide hole. She sighed through her nostrils when she felt his Varðmann press against the back of her neck.
“Do you mind if I monologue smugly?” he asked, a smile in his voice. Now the other three were in the room around her, their hands behind their backs, weapons not even drawn.
“Yes.”
“Good taste, madam,” he said, his smile growing. He walked around to her front, the barrel of his Varðmann still level with her neck. She removed her glasses and looked into his eyes, seeing them even in the darkness of the house. And she smiled in return.
“You can kill me but you can't defeat me.”
“I think I can. But pray tell why do you believe what you said?”
“Sorry, no spoilers.”
“Pregnant women, tsk, tsk.” She closed her eyes when his finger tightened around the trigger of his Varðmann, a tarnished amber colored LeMat Revolver with a sandalwood grip varnished red. The reiryoku bullet tore through her chest, but the velocity of the supernatural projectile sent her back a few feet before crashing on the floor on her back; thankfully her precious cargo unharmed. It was then the four men noticed sirens were...oh, right outside; this had been so exciting that what was right in front of them seemed so distant. Two police cars and an ambulance even, officers climbing out of their cruisers to investigate the crime scene.
“Gentlemen,” the lead man said to the other three. They nodded together, and at once their forms blurred and they were gone, leaving only the wind in their wake; and that rapidly disappeared as well.
The police came in and found her, the poor pregnant woman shot dead by...well, whatever gun made that hole in her chest: it was fucked up. It was then they discovered that her water had broken...and her pregnant belly was still moving, the child inside desperate to get out of the dead mother's body before he too perished. With cries of shock the police called in the medics, and right there in the living room they performed an emergency C-section. Even in death she had given birth to a healthy baby boy. Later, after the child was taken away and her body was taken in for autopsy, they found the note in her pocket:
“His name is Almer Stavenes, and that gun is his. When he's ready, he gets it goddammit.”
Almer Stavenes was a fine young man; all around nice boy, and when picked on by bullies he always had the uncanny ability to stop them from not only picking on him, but fellow children. Smart as a whip, and painful as a whip when he wanted to be, nothing seemed out of the ordinary about the boy, despite how non-ordinary his mother and that gun was; but hey, that's how it seemed, it wasn't how it actually was. At the age of sixteen with good grades, the young man was eligible for his school's foreign exchange program, which he gladly accepted; destination: Karakura Town, Japan. And the lad was smart enough to get his gun by customs agents of both America and Japan.
As he sat on the plane bound for the far east country, he remembered the words the weapon had spoken in his mind, when his foster parents had offered it to him at the age of eight.
Almer, son of my deceased Maker and Keeper; I will have you, and you will have me. I have much to teach you; and your mother and father will teach you as well.
He gazed out the window at the white clouds the plane skimmed over while a slowly setting sun shined on the aircraft.
“Varðmann...when the hell will you tell me your name?” he sighed to himself. Thankfully not many people were on this flight, so he could muse to himself in a low voice. Karakura Town was the perfect place for training the youth of the Hreinsa race; the most spiritually active area in the world. Though there were other spiritually rich places to train as well. Castiel was glad to come here and practice his art and duty as a Hreinsa
With a weary sigh he leaned back in his chair, proceeding to take a nap for the rest of the flight. He allowed himself a smirk as his random pre-sleeping thoughts wandered to how he had tricked the airport customs machines into not seeing the massive handgun in his duffel bag; reiryoku, slightly scrambling their machinery so it passed over the Varðmann without detection. And it was hard-ass paranoid American customs he had fooled. But if only he could get away smoking his pipe on the plane...
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Icelandic translations
Varðmann = Executioner
Hreinsa = Purify or Purifier
Japanese translations
Reiatsu = Spiritual Pressure
Reiryoku = Spiritual Energy
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The Mirrors Of My Soul