I DON'T OWN BLEACH

Author's Drabble; Here we go another new idea for a fanfic. I was inspired by Ice (Dusted mix) by Sarah Mclachlan, and the story just flowed out of me. My BF made me listen to the song over and over...THANKS. This could be the darkest story I've written so far. My first about vampires too! I do hope you review it because I get discouraged and have a tendency to delete my unloved stories lol! Then I just move on to my next treatment. However, I hope you do like it because I have the whole thing mapped out already o.o There will be no OC's in this and I will use many characters to my own twisted desires. Muahhahaha! P.S. MATURE PEOPLE ONLY PLEASE, AND PLEASE ASSUME ALL CHARACTERS ARE OF CONSENTUAL AGE.

BULLET WITH BUTTERFLY WINGS

We are those that align ourselves with death, the beloved children of Persephone. Walking through the earthen realm forgotten and faceless by the simple-minded humans we protect.

Her rules are simple but irrefutable;

THE CODE

Never harm children.

Never break the coven boundaries.

Never leave a trace of our existence.

Never touch what you can not take.

Never under any circumstance create without a permit.

However, there are always those who seek to break the rules. I am the one that brings justice to those who would threaten our way of life. Her orders came to me last night, and I am descending on a small town with nothing to distinguish it from any other town. With one exception...Someone here is breaking the rules. I must bring them back to face punishment or send their soul on to the next life. My name is Byakuya Kuchiki, I am a vampire, and I maintain order. Even if it means killing my own kind.

Touching down he moves without sound, forward he stretches his senses. Three miles southeast his eyes flash deep blue then red sensing a kindred. The wind blows the sweet fragrance of spilled blood across his nose as he pulls open the door to the local church. His steps against the creaking aged wooden floor are the only sound except the large chandelier above clinking. Glancing left and right at the empty rows of pews with his heavy lids, his shoulder length black hair sways with his movement. His pace quickens when he notices the trail of blood disappearing down the hall of the dimly lit sanctuary. Unbuttoning his long black leather jacket, and sliding it down his toned shoulders he hangs it carefully on the coat rack near the door to the auditorium where the blood trail stops. Straightening his red tie he rolls up the sleeves of the black shirt and pulls out a pair of black leather gloves from his coat pocket. Slipping on the gloves he closes his eyes and exhales savoring the final moment of peace. The silence broken by the howl of his kind stirs his blood, pressing him forward.

Blue eyes fly open and he kicks apart the door in front of him, revealing a gruesome display. Chairs, candles, and cloth all covered in layers of blood.

"Ha-ha, I should have known they would send you.." The familiar voice echoes around the room teasing at his ears.

"Why did you break the code?" He asks with his eyes never blinking and arms at his sides, as he moves to the center of the room.

"Aren't you going to release your weapon? It would reflect bad on you, if I kill you so easily."

"You destroy me? Ridiculous." He was growing tired of the cat and mouse games. "Show yourself." He heard a shriek and the barrier crumbled around him. The bodies of the wedding party floated in the air for a moment then dropped with a thud to the floor.

"Using your bloodline to control me..." The form coalesced next to two twisted bodies, one was wearing a white tuxedo and the other was wearing lacy undergarments. Walking toward him the traitor danced around the room wearing the bloody wedding dress.

"You are to return to face the council, the charge is breaking multiple code violations." He lifted a scroll and tossed it bouncing off the tainted gown, it rolled to the ground. Hissing filled the room as he saw the criminal bare fangs and charge toward him.

"Senbonzakura." He spoke calmly as the pistol materialized in his hand. Pointing swiftly he fired two shots, the bright pink bullets pierced the target and the dress fell slowly to the bloody floor. Walking over to the dying form, placing the gun on it's chest he heard a cackle.

"Nii-sama..." The thin pale cellphone in the woman's hands falls to the floor, the voice laughs through the speaker. "I'm going to find...youuuuuu. Then I'm going to kill you..." She lifted her pistol and fired into his side, the grin on her face growing large as the column of ice shoots through his side. The possessed body dissolves into dust and he watches the hell butterfly carry her soul away.

"Rukia." Stopping for one last glance at the burning church before turning, and walking down the dark alley. The wound in his side dripping his blood on the blacktop comforting him as he walked to his next mission.

The pain in his side intensifies, as the ice begins to freeze his internal organs. Just a little bit further to the safe house on the next block. Turning the corner he opens his eyes not to the expected safe house but a small yellow cottage with a large pool beside it. Frozen blood crystals form and fall slowly to the ground and crunch under his boots.

"Hisana?" He calls out to the figure with his families sacred green scarf wrapped around her neck floating above the still water of the pool. His vision blurs making him doubt the outstretched hand offering him salvation. Struggling for enough strength to reach her, he surrenders tumbling into the water.

"Hmm, no matter how you look at it. There's a man floating face down in my pool." Sighing to herself she dives in the cold water and tugs on his body for a easier grip. Turning him on his back she tucks her hand under his chin and guides him to the shallow end. Dragging him up the steps she lays him flat on the grass and lets her training kick in. She moved to check his airway and pushes his long black hair from away from his face.

"Oh, damn he is fine." Shaking her head she refocused her mind. "Cpr...Cpr come on" She notices the light green scarf tightly wrapped around his throat and untangled it from his neck. Stuffing it in her denim jacket pocket, she began CPR and closed her mouth over his puffing two breaths in she pumped his chest. He didn't respond so she put her mouth over his again when his eyes flew open. His deep blue eyes look at her as she pulls back, then quickly scans the area. She puts her fingertips to his pulse point and looks at her watch.

"You have no pulse... How can you be alive?" She asked leaning her head against his chest. Pushing it aside he stood up, and began to walk away without a word when she saw a trail of blood in his wake. "I see you are the reckless type, and the macho type. That's a bad combination. Come inside my house I'll patch you up until an ambulance arrives." Walking over and grabbing his arm the woman with the reddish orange hair pulls him into her kitchen.

"Sit!" She called out shoving him in a kitchen chair and stood over him with her hands on her hips. Water was dripping off of both of them and she was freezing cold. "Stay!" She pointed her finger at him and ran to get her medical bag from her bedroom. When she returned he was gone and her kitchen door was wide open. Walking over to close it she saw him laying on the grass with blood gushing out of his side. "Stubborn type too!" She went over and poked him on the shoulder then grunted dragging him back inside by the feet. She stripped him to the waist and looked at the nasty gash on his side.

"Oh, it went straight through?" Yanking on her gloves and putting pressure on the wound she tries to figure out what to do with him. He didn't say anything or even make a sound while she knew he had to be in pain. She took a shot of morphine out of her bag and started to inject him with it.

"No drugs." His deep voice startled her and she dropped the syringe.

"So you can speak."

"When necessary."

"You seem the type that avoids hospitals."

"You are correct."

"Can you stand long enough to get in bed?" He leaned on her and she shuffled him into her bedroom and dropped him on her brand new daisy comforter. "Well, you picked the right pool to fall in. I'm Orihime Inoue and I'm a nurse, so try to relax."

"No drugs."

"Okay... But this is really going to hurt."

"It's fine." He mumbled as she began to disinfect the wound and stitch him back together.

"James Bond type...worse type of all." Napping next to him, waking to take his blood pressure, change his I.V. and bandages in silence, not a word was spoken between them during the long hours and following morning. When the sun peeked through the mini blinds of her sparsely decorated bedroom his eyes flew open and he rushed to cover the windows with blankets from her closet.

In the early hours of the morning a shadow creeps over Orihime's resting body. It stops suddenly, contemplating, choosing the best method for satisfaction. Blue eyes turn bright crimson as his mouth waters, her every vein glowed with red life. Long pale fingertips slide the pristine white afghan down her shoulders, past her waist, landing on the creamy carpet near her feet. His tongue slips between his lips, as the fragrance sinks inside his mind. She turns her body slightly and a grimace flashes across Byakuya's face. Just below her elbow he notices a small bandage with a purple bruise rapidly growing. His fears are confirmed as he lifts his arm to find marks from the I.V. he had yanked lose without noticing when he blocked out the sunlight.

"She gave me her blood..."

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