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Siren	By : SunsetStarlight Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Grimmjow/Ichigo Views: 2355 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or its characters. I do not make any profit from this story.

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'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair so that I may climb the golden stair'
A creature so foul and heartless, it couldn't even be labled as Human anymore. A creature so changed that it had no soul nor needed one. Something that loved death so much, that it just had to share it with everyone else. The witch-killer. Kazeshini.
Grimmjow had always hated their kind and he hated Kazeshini the most. The freakish bastard was such a murderer that he'd gone and killed all of the other witch-killers until he was the last one left. Something about not wanting anyone else to take any kills he could be having. Kazeshini had no need for worldly possessions so he never asked for money when it came to killing, just the blood and pain was enough for him. With Aizen's recent uprising and all of his witches running all over the place, more and more people were gaining the courage to come running to the dreaded witch-killer to ask for help. The thing was, that even if you gave the bastard a witch to kill it might end up not being enough for him and then he'd turn around and kill you too. Still, Grimmjow had always been fascinated by Kazeshini, he was beautiful in a wierd way. Pitch black skin with red flesh running along the valleys of his cut muscle. His long, lean body and black hair that just defied gravity and his eyes....they were a sky blue without an iris or pupil and they looked as if they had been cut into his face. The way the black bandages he wore to cover the bare necessities were draped along his body in a way that couldn't be anything else but provocative.
Pantera had gained enough strength to take this long walk with him. They made it to the cave Kazeshini lived in, in no time though. The witch-killer had a spell, ironically, put upon his home and land to make the distance short for customers no matter from where they came. Grimmjow had taken the path before and it recognized him, making his journey a slighter shorter one than the first time. Kazeshini was one of the rare creatures that still lived in the forests. As devious and maniacal as he was, Grimmjow thought such big cities and uncountable amount of people put the killer on the kind of edge he felt he'd fall off of. The only time he'd know Kazeshini to go to a city was to kill a witch and then be on his way directly after. He and Pantera pushed past the vines hanging over the entrance to the dimly lit cave and walked inside uninvited. Kazeshini was sitting across from the dying fire, leaning against the cave wall with his eyes shut. A grin sliced across his black face.
"What does such a royal one want with me? Aizen isn't a witch."
Grimmjow growled deep in his chest. "I know he isn't. There's a witch who needs killing. An adept."
Kazeshini's eyes flashed open and he sat up straight, giving his new customer his full attention. "Adept, you say. Not many of those anymore. I almost regretted killing them with how boring it's become. Tell me where it is, Grimmjow."
"She goes to a tower near the witch bed's. A tower longer than Pantera is tall and made of black stone with only one window near the top."
Kazeshini glanced Pantera's way. "An adept. Must be to have done that. Is it permanent?" In his voice was disappointment. Grimmjow had seen him eyeing his companion more than once. Kazeshini was always ready to fight and kill something he thought would give him a good fight. That's all he could look forward to, being the last living Death Wind nothing stood alive in his path for long. He never lost which wasn't always a win in his eyes. Kazeshini always wanted more blood and more pain.
"Do your job, Death Wind."
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He was playing that damn disgusting music again. Small, pale hands grabbed the brim of a pointy hat and lifted it off of a head of long black hair. The hat landed on a counter covered in magical jars that held souls captive. In each jar was a pulsating light and each one varied in brightness and color. Thousands of them were hidden away in her special room and she enjoyed coming there to admire her lifes work. There was one soul that really pissed her off though. It's jar was always too hot to touch with bare skin and it glowed so brightly that she could not look directly at it like the sun. It bathed everything in a warm, golden and bronze light. No matter how much black magic and poison she put into the jar, it continued to glow and glisten cleanly. Still, it would harm the boy greatly and if she kept it up every night, the boy's soul would begin to dim and turn black, rusting like metal. Because of his incredible healing power, when she let up in the punishment, his soul would heal itself completely and she'd have to start over again.
The witch hated martyrs and if there ever was a martyr it was Ichigo Kurosaki. The fool was well loved by his kind and clan and so they refused to give in to her master as they should for the sake of that one fool creature. They died more and more everyday by fighting and not giving in, just as Kurosaki refused to give in. Elves were some of the most stubborn of creatures, not wanting anyone interfering in their business and livelihood. They usually welcomed outsiders into their forests after watching them awhile to discern their character, but in these glorious times of Aizen, the Elves ran scared and tried to destroy all of the paths to their home and that's where her kind came in handy. Some of the Elven clans had turned already, their powers mutating until they became Espada. It was possible for any creature to become Espada if they accepted Aizen and his ways.
The witch grabbed a crystal ball and sat it before her on an empty space on a desk. Slipping her athame out of it's sheath, she dug the dull blade into the flesh of her palm until red blood oozed out. She then took her palm and rubbed the blood over the surface of the ball while chanting in a language only witches and Aizen could understand. The surface of the ball absorbed the sacrafice until the inside of the crystal was swirling with red.
"Master." She whispered with her face held close to the surface of the crystal ball.
"I trust you have a better than good reason for disturbing me, Kuchiki." The voice was cool and calm as she expected.
"Master, no matter what I do to the boy, he will not surrender his voice to me. He does not even use it to save himself. I do not know what to do and wished your guidance on this."
"If he will not use it to save himself, make him use it to save someone else and then steal his voice and consequently his power. I will not have him powerful and killing him is impossible because of his healing. Take his power and then kill him, his clan is showing to be quite worthless."
"Yes, Master. Your wisdom is great and it shall be as you say."
"Good. And Rukia? Your brother recommended you to me with many promises of inevitable sucess. If you fail me in this one task, I will turn him into a mindless monster and kill him like a dog. Understand?"
Rukia held back the shivers that threatened to take over his body.
"Yes, Master. I understand."
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Alone in his tower room, Ichigo quietly sang a bird back to life and a suffering spider into death. He could not stand seeing pain in any form and always did his best to make it better. He knew what kind of power he had and he only used it for good, to heal his clan or the animals they lived beside. He thought back once again to the panther, the ugre to leave he'd thought he'd quelled long ago rising up in him again. Where had that creature come from? What was it exactly? Ichigo was curious by default and finding such a mystery in this forest prison was making him ache with longing to run amongst the trees again and know freedom. He'd had to leave his entire family, clan, and race behind. Sometimes he felt like he'd even left the entire world. No one would come for him, his clan knew better and he could think of no one else who would be bothered to come rescue some creature they didn't know or care about. He would have done it if someone else was in his predicament, but he had come to learn that he was of a rare breed; compassionate. Elves all were compassionate in a way, but they had learned to turn cold and hate all creatures that were not animals or plants. They especially hated Humans and their feelings of entitlement. Human's seemed to think that the world and all in it had been made expressly for them and them alone. They even had whole religions that supported their nonsense.
Ichigo was fond of Humans and thier siliness, they were like children to him. There were many races of Humans, but only two kinds. Not many knew that there was more than one kind of Human, not even the Humans. It is a story kept in the old lore, which the Elves kept safe from evil and good hands alike. Elves were the only creatures content with their lot and unlikely to use such knowledge for their benefit or someone elses doom. The first Humans were perfect, very much like Elves in a way, but more brutal and primal, having been made of the very Earth itself and all it consisted of. When truly angry they could incite a fear so great in their fellow man and even other species that the afflicted would have no choice but to kneel at their feet because of the undeniable power and recognition of one of the First Races. Ichigo had absorbed the old lore books into himself long ago to keep them safer than they had ever been. Now nothing tangible existed, all of the lore was inside of his mind and safely locked away from prying eyes.
This new way of life was wearing on him. So much so that he was beginning to contemplate killing the witch with his voice so that he could get away finally. It was against his moral code to kill anything that was not suffering an inevitable and near death, as with the spider, but it was getting hard for him to just sit back and do nothing. Even Ichigo could become angry and all creatures had the good sense to not be within the same vicinity as him when he was. If he couldn't kill her, then maybe he could heal her. Yet even Ichigo doubted his ability to heal the black and shriveled soul of an adept witch.
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Siren