From the Sand Up, the Story of Cyre [Solo]

Wind-
The Desert hell realm of Hueco Mundo did not share the same unsavory qualities of the sand oceans belonging to the World of the Living in regards to the weather. This was absolutely acceptable to Cyre whom despised the heat with a loathing passion. The sands beneath his feet as he walked were cool to the touch and welcoming in texture. Today’s void of company had sparked quit the rare thought pattern for him… “A Companion.” He stated dryly but one could easily detect the small hint of longing laced with in the phrase as he spoke it so. But a smirk would sound off from him next, “Companions!” He shouts, “Hah!” Who ever heard of a hollow having a comrade? Of a pack of demons banding together and treating each other as kin? “Absurd.” He repeats a word he heard In the world of the living quite some time ago, “Absurd.” He declares the thought as so once more. Suddenly, a sensation rarely felt within the vacuum like realm of the great hollow desert,.. wind. The silky, intangible substance glides over Cyres meager Hierro and he twinges a moment slightly mistaking it for the spirit energy flare of a nearby hunter.
Relief.
Relief racks him a moment to the point where he actually allows a brief chuckle to escape him but the breach in etiquette doesn’t last long and back to his personal quest he goes. Where was he going? He didn’t know.. he was just simply wandering. And that was the existence of Cyre D’Angelo.. Adhujas Hollow, his life was lived by that of the code birthed from the prospects of wind. To simply breeze over the landscape and slide through life unnoticed by anything but the beings that you come into contact with directly and frankly… the white haired Cyre was absolutely sick of it. His mind once again flickers to life at the thought of Las Noches, of the Arrancar armies and what purpose they must feel every day. He longed for that… purpose. And then all at once something strange happens, the wind picked up for a moment causing his gleaming hair to flutter about as he realizes he envied the fact that they were indeed an army.. “Comrades.” He states as the natural force dies down and he is left in silence to bask In the moon light with his fault. “Do I need Comrades?” He glances around at the void of silence that surrounded his being.. nothing but miles of white soft sand as far as his keen eyes could see. “Do I?” He wonders, beginning to seriously question and ponder the answer. Could comrades even be obtained here? Wouldn’t any potential friend just simply attack him and attempt to devour him?
He continues his plight forward, pushing such thoughts to the back of his mind until he found a place where he could feel safe and alone for when he was on the move.. he always felt some one was watching. What a retched existence, to be born a beautiful soul and transformed into a demonic monster who’s best friend and apparently only known comrade was paranoia and he had no idea that life could and should be lived differently. All he knew was to keep moving forward. Unknowing of the fact that his ambitions would drive him farther than any physical landmark he could ever hope to go to.

 
Water.
His trek would eventually, and unknowingly, lead him to a long stretch of flat desert and almost immediately he knew where his whereabouts were. He had wandered to an area that was used by weaker hollows to gain entrance into the Menos forest. If he had chosen to continue forth toward the sand horizon resting below an eternal night sky, he would come across a large cave. The cave itself would be made from quartz like the trees below. The inside would be choked in thick darkness, sort of symbolic considering where it leads but was not a challenge to a hollow of Cyre’s age for his eye adapted and may now adjust to many different shades of black on a whim. The interior of the cave would be wide by almost a mile and could one see details of the wall, one would notice that contrary to the outside, the stone barriers making the walls of the inside would have a peculiar winding sort of motion to them, a spiral if you will, that led the full length of the cave. Cyre hadn’t the slightest of clues as to why he was going back to the blood soaked forest of death and demise, or so he called it, so soon but none the less he began to venture across the sea of snow white sand that stretched on for what seemed like an eternity in order to find the stone portal. Every now and then, he would catch a figure moving around just at the edge of his sight, an occurrence that would normally force him into a chaotic mood that one could only describe as, “on edge.” Were it not for the fact that it was a different figure each and every time meaning that a few hollows were just simply making their own journeys as well and so long as they did not venture to close to the white haired Arrancar.. he had no reason to worry. For a moment he wonders where Las Noches could possibly located in this endless expanse of desert and how any being could ever possibly find it. And suddenly, as he saw and began to near the large Quartz cave, his previous question births a new one… was Hueco Mundo truly endless? The bright orbs of blue and white that made up his eyes stare off into the distance beyond the cave and for a moment he wonders if he should simply keep walking with no guarantee of food or survival just to simply see if there was an end for his tiny mind couldn’t possibly fathom the concept of forever just quite yet and he was locked In a state of puzzlement and suddenly, the concept of time liquefied as if it were water during the process of what would be regarded as Cyres first train of thought to really showcase intelligent thinking in general. He begins to try and understand the concept of forever, to wonder what forever could mean for him and then suddenly.. all at once.. he experiences the thought that forces a creature into mental evolution.. “If there is forever..” He mutters quietly, “Then what am I to do to fill out all of that time?” A rather simplified version of the question.. what is life and what is purpose. But as he needed weaker souls to live along with shelter he decided such question were best to simply have a pin left in them for him to come back to and he begins to wander off into the black tunnel. Today had been odd for him.. such small instances of enlightenment for such a small being like him.. such questions regarding friendship and the meaning of existence had never truly been pondered by him since he had overcome the other minds making up the large mass of hollows known as a Gillian.. since he had become an Adhujas and it was all rather confusing to him and he found it impossible to get his mind off of it..much like a school child whom had learned a new lesson.

His eyes seem to flicker brighter as they adjust to the pure black that began to surround and suffocate him but this was just because his eyes were naturally bright despite being dulled In appearance by the brighter crescent moon above. And back into the darkness of a hollows ignorance and meaningless existence he ventured, the closer he got to the forest the farther away from his intelligent thought patterns he seemed to go, but of course he was completely oblivious to this. Becoming tired as the cave went on for miles then slowly descends downward, he decides to stop and rest. He glances as the quartz wall beside him and eager to leave a mark for the generations of forever.. he takes a sharpened black claw to it. Engraving the name “Cyre.” Into it. A satisfactory grade smile slips across his lips as he stands up, his wispy white hair soaking up any small unnoticeable strain of light around causing him to appear as a floating gray blob at a distance. “Maybe someone will see it, although it unlikely here..” He thinks, cocking his head to the side, his eyes keen enough to make out the letters ensuring that someone would eventually know he existed. And back along the free style path he continues. Hours pass but in a thick black environment like this it could seem like days or mere seconds and for a brief moment the blue eyed hollow forgets he has a body and is struck by the sensation that he is simply floating in it. Until finally he comes to the forest. Stepping onto the stone sand mixture floor he feels odd a moment for this part of the forest seemed to hold a different atmosphere, it was more lit up.. more alive than the rest to almost a shocking degree. Why could this possibly be? The gray scaled demon, seeming out of place in the now alive section of the death forest begins to wander amongst the trees fashioned of Quartz but how this came to be was beyond anyone’s knowledge. And then he spots it, a new landmark that seemed ancient enough but he himself had never come across before probably because he had never slowed down long enough to enjoy it. There, sitting in an alien environment, was a silky blue pond of actual water like in the world of the living. A smaller Quartz tree rested by it and amongst its branches where what seemed to be hundreds of small glowing insects. They shined in a golden yellow color so brightly that one could not make out the features of their body and when Cyre begins to near the small body of water that was resting at the bottom of a large slanted group of rocks, they all fluttered in a hasty fashion and flood towards him. The startled hollow fired a gleaming balla toward them but the aurulent attackers easily evaded and swarm around the target. No harm however was befalling the Adhujas… much to his shock needless to say. They simply land of him for a brief moment and soak in his light and for am moment Cyre begins to wonder if they were sharing some sort of silent knowledge with him as he soaks and bask in their golden radiance. And then they simply leave him be and return to the tree leaving the D’Angelo hollow to submerge himself in the soft water, he allows his whole body to sink into it.. bathing his hierro in it before slowly swimming to the surface and for whatever reason.. feeling different for it. This all shatters like a delicate sheet of glass when his eyes fall upon a white clad figure that had been watching him.  The figure was sitting right as the water’s edge, sword drawn but simply laying by him and the Adhujas knew right away that he was an Arrancar. He appeared to be a male and put two brown eyes directly onto Cyre as the white haired devil scurried to exit the pond. “Are you alright?” The man asks. Cyre pauses, “What?” He asks reluctantly, “Are you alright?” The Arrancar repeats, “You look as if though you have seen some sort of horrifying phantom.”
The scaled hollow stares at him curiously as he slowly approaches not knowing what to say. “No need for an introduction.” The man assures him, “Those small light like insects are me.. let me elaborate.” A charming smile befalls the corners of his mouth, “See that is my resureccion.. Etudie.. a simple name meaning study.. but the power itself is intricate. They land on who ever I should put my focus on and just like that.. I know everything about them.. memories, names.. information . everything.”
Cyre is speechless and worried, that means that he knew of his power to control inanimate objects which put his own self at a disadvantage should this man attack.
Long meaningful conversations were not common occurrences in Hueco Mundo especially amongst abused hollows like Cyre and the man knew he was making him uneasy. “Comrades are possible to have in this world Cyre.. they are.” He says before walking off into the dark forest.. taking all the light he emitted with him and leaving Cyre alone with his absolutely puzzled mind,

Earth

Slowly and in a style that appeared to be almost timid, Cyre awakens in the hollowed out hole created at the bottom of a large Quartz tree by the exposed halves of its roofs. The pond he had found was roughly a quarter mile behind him as he decided to move on from it before someone felt his unmoving presence. “Comrades are possible to have in this world Cyre.. they are.” He hears that man’s voice echo across the growing fields of his mind, “Comrades.” He repeats the word aloud before crawling out of his small sleeping cubby and stretching violently with a gentle groan. Had anyone with no sight met the white haired hollow and only knew him for his personality.. they would never believe him to be able to live in a hellish atmosphere such as this. But against all odds Cyre saw new day after new day after new day for as long as he could remember. He sits down against the Quartz bark behind him and allowed his hand to rest on the part of the ground that was an odd sand and soil mix. He slowly allows his clause to dip into the earth.. feeling it on his hierro soon as he grasps a handful, brings it to his face.. and watches it slide and fall through his fingers. He wonders, after tomorrows rigorous thinking patterns and the pond he had found, if anything was truly solid. What if he truly was just floating through the darkness that had brought him here? And for a moment, he forgets what he is. That he has tortured and murdered many hollows who lacked the means to defend themselves.. forgot about the female he had ended just the other day.. the countless human lives ruined by him.  And so, the killer in denial stands and begins to stroll through the trees pondering what he would do today. He hadn’t a need to hunt, and he hadn’t a desire to return to the pond or desert just yet. But what else could he possibly do? Regret fills him when he realizes he should have followed that man to Las Noches.. or at the very least he should have asked him what it was like to live there. The big white palace he had only heard stories about and dreamed of might have been a few friendly sentences and lies away but instead he was submerged in a dry sea of taupe bathed In an earthy smell that mixed with the eternal death around. He continues to journey through the thicket of death and bramble , along the winding pathways of stone and quartz and odd lights in certain places. Strong hollows in the distance proved their dominance over the weak and all seemed to be normal. Cyre comes across a tree larger than any he had ever seen, it was simply gargantuan to be explained in one word and for a moment he considers climbing the mass of of white stone as if it lef anywhere but the roof of the forest. He wonders what the hollows on the desert surface must think of it, was it even large on the top or did it end in small miniscule branches that looked like all the others. “Fools.” He judges unfairly. He begins to approach the massive freak of nature grade tree before spotting large bat like hollow resting on a lower branch, staring at cyre through gleaming red eyes. The white haired Adhujas can feel his strength and decides to sorrowfully move on. “Pity.” He declares the situation as so, “A pity that I couldn’t explore more of that tree but nothing more than that.. a simple pity.” He had seen and felt so many strange and wondrous things over the last few days now, a hollows tears.. the thoughts of forever.. a pond .. the light orbs of that small tree and the promise of possible comrades, all the concepts and thoughts provoked with in him screamed to be thought more upon and it was all beginning to expand his consciousness. “Odd.” He states, “everything is odd.” Never before had he felt so small, was everything as solid as earth or unpredictable as water? He thinks of how different the earth is In the world of the living, all the lush greens, all the rich browns and creamy whites.. soft blues .. intense reds, deep grays. Such a barrage of colors and experiences that he had begun to long for that type of environment again, to long for the constant unpredictability and freedom despite the constant death threat from the Shinigami protectors that watched over the realms inhabitants. And so that is what he decided all In a few moments as he bolted from his current position, back past the gargantuan quartz giant of a tree, back past the soft blue waters of that simple small pond and then began his long tiring ascension up the winding twisting stone tunnel that would end in a cave and lead back to the bland desert. Bland was no longer a word Cyre would allow himself to utter, he was not the smartest of beings by any means but he knew for a fact now that he was beyond worth boring and decided to live out his life in blood, souls and color.. he now ranked color and experience amongst his needs for survival. And so with that bearing in his mind sharply, he would go off into the desert to find a menos and track it until it decided ot go to the world of the living, but instead he is greeted by a familiar face.

Fire
“Looks like your running somewhere in a hurry.” The male Arrancar states, placing two chocolate brown eyes on the white haired adhujas desperately catching its breath before him. Cyre stares at him, “Can I trust you?” He ask, an actual urgency and hints of desperate attitude thickening in his voice. “I should say so Cyre.” The being tells him, “What do you need?” The mans kindness was absolutely alien to the Adhujas D’Angelo to the point where he paused a moment, unbelieving of what the man had said. “Please.. open a Gargata for me to the world of the living. I care not what location, I care not what temperature, I just simply want to go there.”
The Arrancar stares at him a moment before nodding, “I don’t see why not.. but do be careful, it would be a shame for someone special like you to die at the hands of a shinigami dog.”
Cyre simply grins, “No such thing will happen.”
The white clad embodiment of evolution gently takes Cyre taloned hand with in his own and walks him a few feet forward, he slashes his Zanpakuto through the air and opens the Garganta. A chaotic se of black and green gleams gorgeously at the floor of the portal and on the other end a portal, a barrage of greens and browns can be seen, a forest perhaps. Cyre grins madly and steps onto the bed of resitu that he struggles to control at first, “Wait!” He shouts as he turns around, his eyes making contact with the Arrancars who had such a soft look resting amongst his irises that the Adhujas didn’t know what to do with it, “Yes Cyre?” the white suited man asks him with a loving smile, “What is Las Noches like?”

the man stares at him hard, “Find out one day and tell me.”
And with that the portals beginning closes, a fire born inside of Cyres chest as he sprints along the crumbling path of florescent green Resitu until he feels the soft soil beneath him. He inhales the rich fresh air and listens to the endless sound around him and for the briefest of moments he feels more at home here than he ever had in hueco Mundo as if his old human self had briefly resurfaced for a moment. Happiness was a rare emotion that was hardly ever bestowed upon beings of Cyres race and attitude. But on this day, and in this moment, a monster born of heart break and anguish felt happiness surge through his body. He frolics and plays throughout the forest. He drags his claws along the wood bark that clothed the trees and could feel the life with in them unlike the quartz trees he were accustomed to.  Before today he had never taken time to appreciate the little things that this realm had to offer, he had usually bathed I nothing but blood and blood lusted ecstasy every chance h got but today he simply enjoyed his surroundings. He wanders along a path comprised of soil, trees and small green plant life that littered and dotted the whole of the area. He wanted to find something.. a certain land mark that he felt would always be somewhat special to him now.
And there, resting In a smooth circle of rock, he finds it. A simple, innocent pond just calling to him to share his secrets and happiness. “Find out one day and tell me.” That mas voice echoes to him one last time and for the first instance in his life, Cyre truly felt he would one day as he allowed himself to simply lie and rest the day away. A new found fire burned in his soul, and this time he planned on keeping it ignited. What would tomorrow bring? Cyre handt the slightest inkling of an idea regarding the following day’s events or any structure to them either he was just simply along for the ride now. How upsetting that all of this was just a result of his emotional imbalances and soon he would be angry and hateful.. it was just a matter of time  really.                     

WC- 3780

GP- 50

Cosmic Dawn

The next morning  is brought to Cyre with the singing of birds and the dancing rays of the dawn that cascaded forth onto him from the cosmic red giant that governed the life of this universe. He finds himself laying on a bed of soft grass and soil and for a moment, he takes in the color and air and enjoys his atmosphere thoroughly before deciding that it had been to long since the last time he had replenished his energy. Slowly, the hollow rises to his feet with a painstaking groan. He runs a clawed hand through his silk hair and falls to his hands and feet to begin wondering off in one direction until finding some sort of civilization to where he could hunt.. feed. Despite being in a state of euphoria due to the much anticipated and heavily desired change of location and scenery, Cyre would still not allow his guard to fall like he had yesterday. Images of the Arrancar that had helped him get here flash through his mind and all at once he realizes that if that man had wanted.. cyre left himself so open that he could have killed and devoured him at any second. This provokes the second realization of this cosmic dawn, that despite back ground any soul could be pure in nature. “Pure.” The Adhujas laughs out the word in haste, “No one in Hueco Mundo is pure.” But, just because one was void of actual pureness did not exempt them from the possibility of simply being good natured.

Crisp beams of golden light splash through the leafy canopy forged from tree branches that rested above Cyre’s head, illuminating his hair and glinting off his skin in such a way that a small gray sheen extended out a few centimeters from his body. At a distance one could mistake him for some sort of gray scaled angel until the black gloss of the beings fearsome claws designed for killing entered the light show as well. And wildlife simply ran past him, unaware of the demons presence, of the fallen angel’s conquestial march towards where he hoped he would find some sort of community, for where there were communities there were humans and humans contained strong luscious souls. Cyre follows a dirt path littered with fallen branches and blooming green wild life that ensured that the whole world exploded and thrived with some sort of driving force.. perhaps that was what the hollow was attracted to? The intensive abundance of life that he had never truly been a part of aside from a life he could not possibly remember and further more was completely ignorant to and unaware of. The path winds and splinters and twists from a straight course to some sort of labyrinth minus walls and Cyre stays cautious to not deviate from it, struggles truly for he recognized that after a while.. his made up path actually began to slowly evolve into a man made one. Humans enjoyed creating these In their forests for recreational purposes.. something Cyre knew well and had often used this to his advantage in the past. A small fluff of white zips past him and for a moment he breaks his focused gave on the manmade path to watch it. It was a hair but he hadn’t any knowledge of the wild life in this realm.. to him it was simply some creature hoping hastily towards an unknown destination and for the briefest of seconds he felt as if though he was the creature, soaring through the lush collection of life that he knew as home. “Intricate.” He states, not knowing the meaning of the word but assuming it to mean something close to interesting or beautiful as he had heard that arrancar use it in a positive manner.

As he continues to wander, the path he trekked upon became more and more visibly used and this was clearly the signal that he was nearing its origin point which no doubt would lead to a supply of human beings. The flame giant in the sky had been traveling as well, in tandem with the hollow that bathed in its light, and it too was close to its detonation for it was just over half way across its sky that was void of clouds on this particular day. And slowly the ocean blue mass of sky would gradually turn to a cosmic explosion splashing hues of orange and red across the green landscape.. the gray demon seeming alien within the chaotic yet beautiful barrage of colors. 

Translucent Twilight.

Nearing the City, Cyre could feel the buzz and hums emulating from the bounty of life with in it. Where was he? He had absolutely no idea but at this moment that was a miniscule concern. He was surrounded by souls plenty enough to keep him fed and satisfied without drawing forth the suspicions of Shinigami for as long as his slowly sharpening mind could calculate. And tonight he would feast indeed. Despite having a new respect for life and all its properties after the strange few days he had just endured, a heavy concern was still understandably placed upon preserving his own. And bearing this in mind the hollow wasted no more time enjoying the scenery, he was now on a mission to replenish himself. Though it was true he would have to find a way back to Hueco Mundo soon so he may hunt another hollow as failure to do so would result in him devolving back to a Gillian, he was in no rush to leave this plane quite yet. Soon as he reached the edge of a small cliff like mound of earth the City seemed so close in the distance and the hums and buz’s only grew in frequency, ripe frequency. The space between the edge of this grassy cliff and the concrete jungle was a barren field of soil and trash. A few large ponds that were clearly not always there could be seen strewn across the landscape and Cyre thought it quite the sad excuse for nature compared to the canvas of life he had just stepped out of.. but perhaps this was just simply what ma did?
The Gray scaled Adhujas drops to all fours and begins to take off down the slanted face of the so called cliff, claws ripping and tearing up the chocolate brown soil as he did so. His hair flowed backward at the desperate speed resulting from new found hunger and he appeared as if though all shreds of sanity had briefly left him in the dash for the city. However this was discarded for the closer he had gotten, the more composed and correct he had become yet again as if speed and composure could not exist together with in his mind. The sky was becoming an odd yet seamless mixture of light purples and soft blues signifying that the day was now lying upon its death bed and that Cyres job would soon be easier for he could rely more heavily on the cover of night. And, as unsavory as some may find it, it was more fun to hunt at night because human beings were generally more terrified of things at night.
And so, the story of Cyres life repeats itself as he aimlessly wanders through the back alley ways of some city in some part of the world trying to decipher which soul would yield the most energy but not put up the most fight. This task was becoming increasingly difficult and frustrating for at one point, he had felt an impressively strong soul but the closer he got the quicker he realized that it had belonged to a special kind of human that had abilities similar to a hollows and this sort of struggle was not one that the near starving hollow could deal with right now given the present state of hunger. And so, with his new found disappointment he returns to the hunt. Stealthily sliding back and forth across the alley way like black ink upon white paper, the new colors f the sky allowing him to blend more easily for the higher of concentration of gray that loomed in the havens, the less alien the hollow seemed and felt. Behind apartment complexes, behind houses, behind schools oh it didn’t matter, any soul of any age would have doen and finally, the D’Angelo Adhujas seems to have found a good one. This “good one” of course belonging to a school teacher named Mrs.Jaycee Wallace. The hollow watches her through two ominous pools of white as she exits the middle school building late due to whatever it was they did in there. She was a short, portly woman who seemed to generally enjoy life for even in her slightly advanced age there was a visible bounce in her step. Her was dull but not yet graying and her current attire consisted of a gray flowing long skirt with tan flowers printed on it and a red line stretching around the waste parameter at the top. She wore a Beige button up long sleeve shirt but kept the sleeves rolled up. And to top it all of her hand bag and high heeled shoes contrasted the outfit horridly with a light yellow that had no business even existing in this picture. She seemed so happy, humming a merry tune and considering the day’s events that for a moment, a small bit of Cyres loving alter ego had tried to force itself to the surface and allow her life. But despite being different mentally from the rest of his race, Cyre still was indeed a hollow and her soul was indeed strong.

The air was quaint and sweet on this pathway, surrounded by youthful trees and shrubbery. The hollow follows her merely six paces behind. There was no need to hide amongst the bushes or keep quiet, she could not see or hear him.. she had no idea that his existence could have ever even been possible. Five paces behind her now, he begins to wonder just exactly how he was going to do this, the area was void of any other people but still far to public to allow any screams to escape the woman’s mouth. Four paces behind her, time was shortening now and Cyre quickly began to look around for any possible break, any larger shrubs or thicker trees that he could drag her behind? That he could hide his natural sin from the eyes of his subconscious. Three paces behind, relief strikes the hollow in a refreshing wave as she was nearing a public park that consisted of a small sad excuse for a wooded area with a few trails running through, she must have lived in the beautiful suburban neighborhood the Adhujas had passed on the way here. Two paces behind and the demon was growing far to anxious, he was practically upon her now and could even smell the perfume she had apparently bathed him, he could hear the utmost n intricate details regarding every little not she hummed and every little physical flourish she pronounced through body language to signify that she was just simply a happy person and Cyre cannot help but feel guilt for having to do this to her. One pace away and the Hollow can no longer delay.. the dying embers of the twilight sky demanded action, and action Cyre took as he lunged forward grabbing her shoulders violently in doing so and bolting with mighty force to the large shrubbery on the side of the path way. The woman attempted to struggle but it was an absolutely hopeless gesture or will for her strength could never match that of her killer. He picks her up off the ground and slams her down hard, causing a muffled thud against the soil that had followed the snapping of twigs and small branches belonging to the concealing shrub. She still had fight left in her and began to shriek in terror and cry out for help, prompting the Adhujas to lift her up once more and send her clashing back down onto the earth.. and that’s when he saw it.. the tears running down her soft cheeks. Gritting his teeth and looking away Cyre can feel absolutely nothing but shame and guilt as he mutters, “Forgive me.” For he had subconsciously been torturing her. Unable to allow her fear to strengthen, he reaches a hand down towards her face and opens her throat in the form of a wide gash using a glossy black claw. And devour her soul he did, not feeling quite right afterward as he began to wander towards the suburb.. he can only wonder why he can’t just be like the others and take pride in his killings? With the slow intensity of a mad man feeling rather upset due to his crimes, and.. just like that he begins to start up the path way, desperately searching for some sort of alley way or small road.. the twilight dying quickly behind him.

The Evening of the Rose.

To truly understand the plight of a being driven by heart break.. one must understand what a rose is. A rose is a spectacle of pristine beauty but, if one attempts to grab it without caution.. to claim it as theirs and capture this beauty, this individual shall be thwarted by the pain of the thorns guarding its stem for some things are simply that.. beautiful land dangerous for one to grasp.  

The concrete below the hollow slowly became the main ( but not only ) focal point of the orange and white spotlights above signaling that night time has fallen over the area. Cyre reverts back to the mindset of a nomad and he is not fully satisfied in his lust for the souls of the living.. much energy still needed to be replenished. The ally way he walked upon was a light gray with an engraved line running up the entire length of its middle. Each side of this split was hopelessly suffocated in a barrage of cracks that sang of how the integrity of this part of town had been ignored by its government long ago and since then this has not changed. Further to each side, where the concrete ended, wild grass in desperate need of a fresh cut began.. the tall green blades extending outward until their tips scratched at the surface of their alley way neighbor. The blades further back became tangled in the rusted metal mesh of multiple fences that lined the slim concrete path, some staying composed throughout the constant wear and tear of their meager existence but others were clearly giving way under the weight of neglect. Every now and then the Adhujas would pass a large wooden telephone poll with large vine like growths splintering up its sides and claiming each one. Through the eyes of an ordinary human this was a pitiful and despised area within the city but to a demonic spirit whom was born into blood soaked sands to live a life of pure hell, it was beauty. The explosion of life, even just small green weeds destroying their surroundings at a slow rate, were interesting In themselves. So many competent souls lined the alley way from the houses that rested off of them via drive way paths or strange gravel paths and the occasional grass path. But out of the entire selection, one soul stood out as the strongest. When it came to souls this strong the D’Angelo Adhujas had to generally be careful as it could be a human with special spiritual abilities but that was not the case this time… and that not being the case was quite the rarity in Cyres experiences. Bearing this fact in mind he decided to move through the labyrinth comprised of more disheveled alley ways and crumbling building sided along decaying fences until he was finally beginning to near its source. By this time the sky had shifted from a deep purple to a pure black and not a single star could be seen above the metropolis. And for a moment, the white haired hollow cringed as he felt the weak light of this realms moon glint off his hierro.. it wasn’t like the thick permeating light from his Hueco Mundo.. the kind that made you feel accepted. This was light that had made it clear to him that he did not belong here.
At last he reached his destination. The soul was felt inside of a two story home andn o other were within its confines from what he could tell. The house was painted white but over the years it had acquired more than its fair share of chipping paint and lacerations to its general figure. The posts holding the roof of the structure porch didn’t look very sturdy what so ever and seemed as if though they could break at any given moment. Cyre was staring at the back of the complex, which also had a crumbling wooden deck of decent size and the house could be entered there from a sliding glass door. The finer details of the home had been rendered invisible by the black that rested outside of the small sphere of light coming from the street lamps. The Adhujas peered at the crumbling fortress through curious eyes before the feeling of an approaching soul, of much less quality to that of the one residing in the house, had become close enough to make a noise. Cyre redirects his focus to his right, watching a figure come into view through the light brand of darkness found exclusively in the world of the living.. where everything seemed to be softer including its inhabitants.. for the figure was soft enough in all regards. What the White Haired Hollow now viewed was a man riding a bike. The man himself wore a black suite that had obviously been worn to its limit and was a tad to large for its current user anyhow. His black dress shoes were rather dusted and the tired appearance of his clothing went even deeper and shown on his tired expression. He looked as if he had just worked one thousand hours with no concept of what a break or rest even was. The bags under his eyes and the concrete frown that didn’t seem like it would falter any time soon. What was most upsetting was that, despite an older appearance.. the man couldn’t have been a day older than twenty five. Below him was his steed, a rusting red bike that’s color seemed to be spray painted onto its frame. The pedals made a repetitive squeaking sound as the bike itself was cycled upon, and for a moment Cyre wondered how any being could begin riding it with and shred of sanity and leave in that same mental condition. And as fate would have it, this overly worked duo would then turn, riding inches away from the gray scaled demon into the yard of the crumbling wood home that concealed one of the most satisfyingly strong yet naive souls Cyre has come across in his recent memory. This was now an issue as the hollow couldn’t afford for there to be two within the confines of that house that would soon be made into his killing grounds, for if one say the other being killed.. that one would logically flee. And in this conundrum Cyre could only resolve that this man would not be allowed to enter the home.. he had to die here and now. With this new objective in mind, the Adhujas slipped through the thin space between the gates door and the gate itself as to not touch the dying rust spotted metal and cause a noise. He moved with the swift stealth of a being that left his sanity at home that day.. creeping towards a brown shed that he had seen the man enter with such an eerie slow.. yet fast pace that it seemed like he would be there in mere moments but those moments would take years. How odd a bystander must have felt In watching this, how confused, was it precision or carelessness? Was it both?
The man was parking and, for whatever reason, locking up his bike.. completely oblivious to the fact that the one who would soon take his life was standing a yard and a half away from him now. The dull ivory bath of light washed in through the open door of the small wooden shed, flowing past the hollow gently catching his hair in white flame and glinting off his gray scales casting small orbs of light onto the play wood walls of the structure. These orbs did not go unnoticed by the victim either, his eyes peered at them, then looked down at his watch before realizing that they could not possibly be caused by him for there were far too many. For a moment, he found himself in a dumbfounded state of not knowing what to think as he realized the light was indeed being reflected off something and he was almost ready to allow the childhood notion of magic slip into the walls of his mind before he noticed the light stopping at one certain point in the mouth of the shed.. as if someone was standing there void of a shadow. “Is someone there… a specter? A ghost?” The man coos out in a frightful tone, feeling eyes on him he takes half a step back but is forced to stop at the gentle touching of his shoulder the wall of the shed. “Hello?” He inquires further before he is struck hard across the face, his head smacking hard against the ply wood behind him.. he slides down the surface until he is in a sitting position on the floor. He seemed to afraid to scream, realizing this was real must have been an extreme shock as he lifted a hand to his face and observed the blood that collected on his fingers from a now broken nose. His eyes widen in toxic fear and he desperately searches for the phantom assailant. “Please.. I don’t know what this is but.. you don’t have to-“ He is cut off by an awful pain in his abdomen that happened in tandem with a sickly wet ripping sound. He looks down to see a large gash in his stomach, and just like that his skin turns pale and he is sent into a gentle fit of cold sweats.. he begins to shake and his vision starts to gradually darken. With in the midst of his untimely death.. his eyes are unfortunately able to see now.. the image of his killer. Staring back at him, with eyes that held nothing but death and a hint of lust, was a monster that had the shape of a human.. but the scales claws and fangs of a demon sent to punish the man for a doing that could not have nearly been sinful enough to deserve this. “Are you an agent of god? Is your face the last that I will see?” The man asks.. eyes slowly closing as blood trickles from the left corner of his mouth. Cyre stares at him oddly, tilting his head to the side and shivering in both shame and pleasure as he feels the warm blood and flesh on his hand before he slowly slides it out of the victims intestines. “Ive never heard of your god before tonight and my face will indeed be the last you see.” The Adhujas explains, using the extent of vocabulary his simple mind could muster up. “Who ever is in that house is my next victim” The demon states, sliding a glossy black claw across the man’s throat, slashing deep enough to sever his wind pipe and vocal chords, “Just thought you should know that.” He finishes. The man’s eyes widen once more, and tears begin to streak down his face before closing… before devoured by the hollowfied beast.      

And back into a state of stealth he went. It was decided by him to utilize the open window on the side of the house.


A young, beautiful woman shivers in a poor excuse for a living room. The living room itself was simply horrid to look upon. The tan carpet, shredded or torn in some areas, looked as if though it hadn’t been cleaned in years for one could practically see the dust rising up from it as a result of even the slightest of breezes. The only two sources of light came from a slender steel lamp dawning a sickly yellow bulb atop it and lacked a lamp shade, and the slight moonlight that poured in through the clear pain window. These lights cast shadows emulating from the thrift store style couch which was the only piece of furnishment within the confines of the room save for an oak entertainment center.
And, unfortunate as it was, the room was still better off in condition than the woman was pacing back and forth frantically, biting back tears and staring at a small.. cheap cellular phone clasped tight in her small hands. Hastily she redials a number and listens to the countless barrage of rings that to her.. took years to finally cease, “Hey.. it’s me again baby.” She whimpers into a voicemail, “Please call me back.. I get scared enough when you work late.. cause all you have is that stupid old bike and this isn’t the area for us… please.. your scaring me call me back..” She pauses, her voice choking as a few stray tears slid down her cheeks, “I love you..”  She finishes.

Cyre was watching her continuous cycle, watching her heart break.. watching her tears and becoming saturated by her sorrow and sadness. It was almost too much for him to bear.. seeing his own aspect of death caused by him. But something else kept him from killing her.. and forced him to stay and watch over her to make sure she was ok.. however, he was unable to put his finger on it.

WC- 4,377
GP- 58 

Indifference

Dawn would come in the form of a slow moving blanket of soft light smothered by many cotton white clouds, little did any inhabitant of the metropolis expect that  rain would fall on this day… and no one could ever understand its significance to one individual in particular. 

Soft luminescent orange rays would pour into the dying the house owned by a woman whom Cyre felt trapped by now.. and had learned her name to be Isabella. The light would be deluded and softened by the white drapes that covered every window and somewhere within the fortress of decaying wood.. rested a young lady with not even the slightest suspicion that a demon rested by her bed side. Cyre watches over her with such intent.. such intensive interest that the fact that the morning light was flooding around him was hardly noticed, or if it were it was completely disregarded. The light glinted off his scales giving him the appearance of an angel shrouded in a soft ball of grayish light that extended outward.. resting on Isabella’s nocturnal form. He knew she would wake soon and had decided then and there that his presence was no longer needed. He had felt guilty for causing her such pain in the same way he hollowfied.. heart break.. and so he resolved to watch over her on that night and protect her from any other hollows that may also feel her powerful soul but thankfully no takers rose to the occasion. He watched her eyes gently squint and then.. as if it were nothing.. he simply left towards the stairs. However this nomadic notion was short lived.. for as he heard her stir.. as he heard her gentle voice welcome the new morning with a child like yawn he found that a force field had been mentally placed over the threshold before the stair case.. found that he would be absolutely unable to leave whether he wanted to or not.. and found that he truly didn’t want to. Nothing made sense in that moment as he looked over his shoulder at her and felt such an horrid yet beautiful sensation in his stomach of electricity. The light soaked into her hair and refined its color and her skin shined in pale porcelain radiance. What was keeping him here? Why was he staying? He could not muster up an answer or even an ego defense tactic and decided to just simply accept this for now. Two white pupils clouded by unknown desire study the human as she lazily slumps out of bed and strides down the stairs in a short paced walk disguised as dance to the observant hollow and dubbed as nothing more than beauty.. and beautifully dubbed by him she was the rest of the morning as she went about her normal routine.

In a state of depression from her companion’s absence, Isabella sits at the small table that rested against the wall in her kitchen and eats breakfast alone. She had a small plastic bowl that appeared to have belonged to a child before.. and with in this child’s bowl were many small brown flakes she had poured from a rather colorful box. Slowly, she raises the a metallic spoon to her lips.. parts them slightly and leaves the contents to chew as if the action were a difficult chore.. she was clearly shaken up and not well over her partners disappearance. Racked with guilt, the Adhujas would stare at the dim light above her for minutes at a time even.. glance at her and witness her pain.. then shoot his eyes right back upward. She had no inkling of an idea that he was even existent and Cye had no inkling that soon.. when she became used to her spirit energy she would be able to see him.. to hear him as well.
The rest of the day is an ongoing pattern of her carrying out basic house hold activities like reading, sitting around, eating and most of all.. sulking. Until finally her phone rings. With an intense haste he darts for the device, answering in such a quick tone and in such an upbeat manner that one could have never known that she was in such a depressive abyss not moments ago, “Baby!?” She calls into the telephone, a faint feminine voice replies, “What? No its Vicki.” And suddenly, she began to sink back into the abyss and Cyre looked on helplessly, unable to grab her hand and pull her ashore. “Oh.. hey Vicki.” Isabella states, voice wet with sorrow. “Are you ok?” The woman asks her with such intimate sincerity that it almost calms the pain racked girl on the other end of the conversation. “No.. he didn’t come home last night, I’m so worried about him.” She vents in a sickly weep, “Did you file a missing persons report?” Asked the woman, and a slight gleam of hope flickered across Isabella’s eyes fro the briefest of moments, “But..” She stammers a second, unable to believe it was that easy, “But you have to be gone for forty eight hours for a missing persons report to filed on you.” Anguish reenters her tone yet again, what an emotional rollercoaster this.. Vickie.. was sending her on. “Then do so tomorrow.” Her friend states, “But in the mean time come visit me ok? Like now, we can talk and get your mind off of this.”

Slowly, Isabella nods as if her comrade could see her doing so, “Ok, I’ll be over in a few minutes.” She states before farewells are given and the girl drags herself upstairs to put on a more appropriate outfit.
The gray scaled Adhujas stands next to the couch in silence, “A missing persons report?” He stammers the phrase out in his rasped stream of a voice, it had never occurred to him that she would try looking for him. “No.. unacceptable.” The hollow states gruffly, forming a plan with in his mind to rid any notion of searching from her dreams. He watches her leave and then begins is work.

He was a hollow with a humanoid body so, despite being heavily clawed, fingers were indeed a part of his anatomy and knowing this.. he understood what he could do. He slowly, and shakily picks up a black ink pen from the counter in the kitchen. He tries many times and fails many times at writing upon an entire note book of paper. Slowly and surely each time the words become more legible and clear and soon he found that he was close indeed to spelling out the three cruel words that would surely end the ties Isabella believed she had to that man. Within one hour, a fine piece of paper with the words, “I’m leaving you.”  Rested on the kitchen counter.. awaiting its future reader to return home as a white haired devil began to take and hide any belongings of importance that he believed belonged to Isabella’s spouse.

The hollow waits patiently, for hours, standing in one place with a feeling of accomplishment thick enough to felt on the skin, his concentration on the open note he left only briefly broken for a moment by a barrage of tapping on the window.. rain. And suddenly, that tapping was followed by thumping as Isabella ran into her home to escape the weather. She run her hands through her beautiful brown hair as walks into the house, heading up the stairs she would find that half of the closet in her room would be cleaned out along with many photographs. And the thumping occurs yet again, thundering down the steps in a fashion so panicked and hurried that it excited the Adhujas spectator for a few seconds. The frantic woman runs into the kitchen and sees then ote, “Im leaving you.” She forms the words with her mouth before her face cringes slightly and tears stream down her cheeks.. it was as if all noise stopped for a matter of moments as her frail innocent voice squeaks out, “But.. why?” And then all at once the rain came back into the hearing of her and the hollow along with a crack of thunder and then the hysterical sobbing of a woman now broken inside as she slowly walks out her door. Cyre watches in horror.. how could he have been so cruel? How could he not have known the consequences of his actions? He jogs outside to find her kneeling in a plot of green grass belonging to her front yard. The sky was a charcoal gray smeared with yellowed clouds, the rain fell heavy and fast and soaked the demon spirit and young lady alike. Her brown haired became plastered to her thin black coat and pale soft skin as her big eyes, flooded with tears that would blend into the rain itself.. look onward into the sky, her whole life had changed and she didn’t know what to do next.  

 and suddenly, Cyre begins to contemplate life.. to contemplate existence yet again as the water washes over him and this object of beauty fixated in his vision. “What is the difference between you and I?” He whispers, watching her intensively before his eyes carry to the wealthier part of town In the distance, “And what is the difference between her and there?” He feels the cold rain water slide off his scales and he stares back at the girl, taking in her form and the sky above her before stating, “I had believed thought I was unworthy of you.. and that my sins were to great to be associated with someone like you.. some oen of such beauty just as the people in thi area deem themselves unworthy of the ones who reside in that one.” He begins, using vocabulary even he himself didn’t know he knew.. perhaps it was carried over and buried from his human life. “But every notion of separation has now vanished from me.. for look.” He hand waves out in front of him, “all of us are equally worthy of thi gift from the heavens, it touches us all despite race or class or creed and..” he walks behind her.. and places a hand on her shoulder finally understanding why he had stayed so long, “And I no longer need to feel foolish for loving you because of this.”

Isabella dint understand who was touching her shoulder for she saw no one.. but.. none the less it comforted her so.    

WC- 1754

GP- 23