Corroded Spirits

Corroded Spirits: 34

Chapter 34: Dark-lit Corners

 The silence that hung over the entire Seritei was so great, that it almost felt like not a single soul lay within the area. The air was not humming, no birds were singing, not even the faintest sound of the sun's rays glittering over the buildings and rooftops could be heard. It was as if someone had pushed the mute button, and no longer gave the effort to bring it back to normal.

 If there was anything visible in any aspect whatsoever in the Spirit Realm, it would be the overwhelming guilt that every single person who resided there, was currently feeling. The time of the execution of an Orihime Inoue was nearing within the second. Time didn't stood still as it usually did on such ocacsions, which gave all Shinigamis more time to ponder on why there were doing such an atrocious act of cruelty. Because despite the conditions that she had fallen in, Orihime Inoue was still a human by the laws of both the living and the dead.

 Morevover she was the close friend and ally of Ichigo Kurosaki, Soul Society's trump card situated in the Human World. Not to mention, she helped in the healing of most injuries in the battles that had taken place over time. Their debt to Kurosaki extended in just the same width to Orihinm. How so quickly the Gotei 13 could forsake this fact was beyond any of them. And now, they were about to end the life of the very thing that they exist to protect.

 "It is not all bad." A very, very weak voice said in the dark. The dark was wide, and vast, and void of anything to the eyes. There was only one source of light, and they were the small rectangular windows that adorned the walls around the tall tower. But even then, it barely shone. It was a pit of blackness, appropriate for its' given name. For anyone who is blind to anything would be begging for penance, whatever sin they have done.

 A small, frail hand sways amidst this black. It isn't clawing through anything, it just hangs in the air. Then it gently turns, and twists, fingers bending in a graceful fashion. "Even now, after everything, you'd still see that something good will come out of this." A deep, much stronger voice stated firmly. Though there was a hint of coated fatigue in there. "Of course it will be. I know that there is..." The fingers twist and continue to bend, until another hand, dead white and of black fingernails, gently trails up and holds it. "Orihime..."

 The fugitive/criminal, turned her head in the darkness, and looked at the already-ghostly Arrancar that only she could see. The only thing that has kept her sane up until that moment. "How can there be good in any of this? Because of everything we've done... now they mean to kill you.." Ulquiorra whispered, even though he wouldn't be heard by anyone else. Orihime's fingers intertwined with Ulquiorra's, slotting them through places that weren't there. "They've already meant to kill me. And they botched it... Sent me to Hell.. Maybe now they'll do it right and send us to Heaven."

 There was a quiet rumble and metal clanking that Ulquiorra heard, but didn't make known to Orihime. "But they took away our Heaven." He said, in probably one of the saddest tones that he actually let be heard only by her. "They took it away when they took you from me." Orihime said, feeling a warm tear quickly escaping her eye. The clanking was there again, and suddenly, bright light blasted in the room. It bounced on the walls, the stairs and filled the once dark tower with a powerful illumination.

 Almost instantly, the gentleness of her demeanor disappeared, and she returned to being the horrific abomination with the soul of a fallen Arrancar. There were several blurred shadows appearing in the light. She couldn't quite see there faces, but she didn't care. There was only one face that she yearned to see, and if she saw anything else other than that, it was vividly known that she would rip it to pieces. "You're coming with us.." The intruders said, and then the darkness returned.

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----

 The meeting was finally over, and how he had managed to sit through its' entirety without faltering for a second, he would never know. With every unknowingly aching muscle of his body, Ulquiorra began the trek to his charge's prison cell, where he knew she was waiting for him.

 He was supposed to have come for her much sooner, but the duration of the meeting was unexpectedly changed due to Aizen ordering everyone to be posted around different areas of Las Noches. Not that he minded for it. He knew that it wouldn't be a hassle for him. If anyone saw him walking around as he currently was, and ask why he wasn't where he should be, he would  just give them his signature 'it is none of your business', and he would continue on without so much as a look from anyone who passed him. Yes, he knew that his plan would work.

 The only impending problem now was the time. Besides Aizen and the rest of his army, time was the most fatal enemy. And how fast it was racing. If Ulquiorra miscalculated on anything within the plan in any way at all, then they would be done for. Aizen would catch them, and Kami knows what fate would be stored for them then. With these horrible thoughts trying to be pulled at the back of his mind, Ulquiorra hurried on through the corridors.

 When he came upon the hallway where her cell was, he was expecting something like a large hole on the wall, or a blood trail, or anything equally horrifying. But there was no such thing, and he was grateful for it. Without wasting another moment, Ulquiorra pushed the door open and entered. "We must hurry, the time is fleeting, Orihi--" But alas... There was no voice that greeted him, be it bubbly or fearful. No glancing around fearfully with large worried eyes that looked at him. There was nothing. The prisoner. His-- Orihime was not there.

 At first Ulquiorra thought that he was just imagining it, and that she was hiding somewhere in the cell. But the absurdity of it immediately dawned on him. She knew just as much as he did, the perils of what they were planning. She wouldn't play her games at a dire time such as this. And then the horrors came back, rushing violently and quickly, collecting itself deep in the place where his non-existent heart was supposed to lay. All at once, fear, worry, anxiety filled the once-ever-so-stoic Arrancar. He stood there, almost shaking and trembling, fighting to stay standing, when another emotion, one of the most powerful and most dangerous, slowly began to return to him.

 Rage. And as the room grew dark, two, small, narrowed slits of sparkling viridian shone in the cell, before they disappeared and an echoing sound filled the air. The pressure of his Sonido caused the door to close, leaving the empty room, all to itself. With a prisoner, no more.