Post by wanzer on Sept 29, 2009 20:35:09 GMT -4
The time is upon us….
Icy cold drops of rain poured down over the high school and students scurried about, like chickens with their heads cut off. Each wanting to remove themselves from the freeze raining that was pouring upon the dry earth, the hollows of the ground receiving each drop hungrily while else where numerous hollows felt that same hunger.
Blood shall become the new rain….
Frozen acid ran through their veins as they watched the students, agonizing their brains with their gluttonous hunger. One of them stood out though, one of them looked human. He walks, talks, watches, waits and rallies the hollows. He is an arrancar, he is an espada, he is acting without consent of his masters. He feels the hollows’ pains, their hunger, their needs.
He doesn’t care…he is starving, he is ready, waiting…willing them to him…
Their blood is boiling now, the arrancar is leading them, he is driving them forward. The garaganta opens, its mouth opening wide in a ravenous O of release for the hollows and the single arrancar. It signals their release, their time, their moment to feed. The arrancar walks behind them. There are hundreds of hollows all pouring through the portal, setting off the radars he knows are placed in every factions base. He relishes the thought, he wants the strong ones first..the big wigs, the leaders, those that have proved themselves, the lords. His smile widens as he siphons a soul out of human with little effort, most of the humans that had any six sense dropped dead from his massive pressure. The slaughter had begun.
They never had a chance, their only hope are the shinigami….
He is waiting now, waiting for a response, waiting for their response; waiting his his blade ready. That red blade, that horrible red blade, that has stolen so many lives and has proven a deadly tool. He stands, the weapon half drawn in his hands while his wheat colored hair sways in the winter wind and the monsoon rips through the area. People are dying all around him as the hollows tramp through the high school and force their way through to the outer areas. He laughs.
How could things be this easy?...
The truth was they couldn’t be and for every action there is a reaction. He knew their would be hell to pay in the end for this, but it would be worth it. He looked up as the rain ran down his face. A solitary tear for the massacre to come, natures way of remose for ever giving birth to Sojukin Asamoto, the slayer of men. Sojukin looked down and smiled again, before taking a seat at the top of school trying to remove the fool taste from his mouth from the lack luster souls.
Icy cold drops of rain poured down over the high school and students scurried about, like chickens with their heads cut off. Each wanting to remove themselves from the freeze raining that was pouring upon the dry earth, the hollows of the ground receiving each drop hungrily while else where numerous hollows felt that same hunger.
Blood shall become the new rain….
Frozen acid ran through their veins as they watched the students, agonizing their brains with their gluttonous hunger. One of them stood out though, one of them looked human. He walks, talks, watches, waits and rallies the hollows. He is an arrancar, he is an espada, he is acting without consent of his masters. He feels the hollows’ pains, their hunger, their needs.
He doesn’t care…he is starving, he is ready, waiting…willing them to him…
Their blood is boiling now, the arrancar is leading them, he is driving them forward. The garaganta opens, its mouth opening wide in a ravenous O of release for the hollows and the single arrancar. It signals their release, their time, their moment to feed. The arrancar walks behind them. There are hundreds of hollows all pouring through the portal, setting off the radars he knows are placed in every factions base. He relishes the thought, he wants the strong ones first..the big wigs, the leaders, those that have proved themselves, the lords. His smile widens as he siphons a soul out of human with little effort, most of the humans that had any six sense dropped dead from his massive pressure. The slaughter had begun.
They never had a chance, their only hope are the shinigami….
He is waiting now, waiting for a response, waiting for their response; waiting his his blade ready. That red blade, that horrible red blade, that has stolen so many lives and has proven a deadly tool. He stands, the weapon half drawn in his hands while his wheat colored hair sways in the winter wind and the monsoon rips through the area. People are dying all around him as the hollows tramp through the high school and force their way through to the outer areas. He laughs.
How could things be this easy?...
The truth was they couldn’t be and for every action there is a reaction. He knew their would be hell to pay in the end for this, but it would be worth it. He looked up as the rain ran down his face. A solitary tear for the massacre to come, natures way of remose for ever giving birth to Sojukin Asamoto, the slayer of men. Sojukin looked down and smiled again, before taking a seat at the top of school trying to remove the fool taste from his mouth from the lack luster souls.