Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. I do own the OCs who show up in this, however, and their stories.
Crimson: Well, I know this seems like a new story (which it kinda is). **rubs back of head nervously** But I'm just posting up all the fanfics I have ideas for. That way, I can have them all up on , rather than worry about which one is up there and which one isn't... That explanation didn't make much sense...
The Worst Betrayal
She dropped to her knees, her hands clutching her slender neck. Her throat constricted so greatly that her ragged breaths grew that much harder to take. She could barely drag the air through the pinhole her airway had become. Her lungs began to burn with the need for more oxygen as her heartbeat sped up in response to the surge of adrenaline bursting through her veins. Her emerald-green eyes flicked over to the ones responsible for her deadly predicament, narrowing into a hateful glare at the three people just standing there and staring at her as she fought for her life. Her sun-darkened skin paled considerably as the poison crawled through her body, slowly making its way to her rapidly-beating heart.
"Why?" she managed to bite out between precious breaths of air. Her fingers dug deep into the damp earth at her knees, sharp nails easily breaking through the soft ground as she held onto Mother Nature for much-needed support–both physically and emotionally. Her long, black hair fell in gentle waves down her bare shoulders and back, spilling over the browning grass of the little hillside. It took everything she had not to take her unnerving gaze off the trio who had dared to call them her family, as she thought about where she was and who she was so near to. . . .
"Why?" the 40-some-year-old woman of the group repeated, nasal voice tinged with unmasked hate. She snorted, leaning on her husband's arm–who was no looker himself–while she answered her questioning plea. "Because no one can be as ugly as you," she informed the young woman in a snide tone. "You must be a demon."
The poisoned, dark-haired teenager gave a snort of her own. She knew what the older woman meant by "ugly". Her foster mother had always been jealous of her for her natural "beauty". It was not something she wanted to bring attention to. She'd nearly been raped on several occasions for that factor alone before she figured out how to protect herself. And, now, she was being killed for it! What a world this was! The Grimm fairytale her birth mother had read to her as a child came to mind. She really did feel like Snow White right now, all the way down to the poisoned apple lying innocently a few feet away from her, the place where she had bitten into it facing her as if teasing her for her stupidity. She had hoped this outing was their way of making up for all those years of ignoring her and badmouthing her to all the prospective parents who had been wanting to adopt her. . . .
How stupid could she get?
A spasm of pain raced up her right arm–the one she had burrowed into the ground. Her cry of agony cut off as she bit down on her lower lip. Something wet dribbled down her chin, telling her that she had come down too hard on her lips. Her teeth had managed to slice open the delicate skin, but, at this point, she didn't really care. The raging inferno in her limb spread up her shoulder, across her chest and through the rest of her quaking body. A spine-tingling numbness immediately followed, freezing her from the inside-out. She released a shaky breath of air, half-expecting a puff of fog to leave her now-bluish lips. It felt like all the heat inside her had suddenly vanished into thin air, whisked away by the fiery sensation which had ripped through her.
At least, now, she could breath properly. Still, her eyelids felt too heavy for her to lift and they fluttered close over her dull, green eyes. Her body, too, had suddenly become like stone and she sunk the rest of the way to the ground. Grogginess made its ugly face known to her as it masked her senses, blinding her to everything taking place around her. Even her ears felt like mufflers were on them for she could barely hear the gleeful voices of her foster parents and foster brother bidding her an eternal farewell. However, she could still pinpoint their footsteps. And, as a drop of rain fell onto her upturned face, her lips moved as she spoke.
"Then allow this demon to thank you for your gift," she whispered in a hoarse voice. Her eyes slit open just enough to catch sight of three blurred forms standing over her. Words–spoken in an unfamiliar foreign tongue–left her throat yet her lips did not move. A blur of heavenly light burst over her vision as the storm overhead finally broke over Karakura Town's cemetery. She finally fell back into the yawning void widening beneath her, fulfillment coursing through her. Her ears caught the last screams ripping through the night air as the ones who had betrayed her burned within the flames of justice.
Now, if only she could save others from the same treachery she had just experienced. . . .