Summary: Ulquiorra, a coldblooded murderer, has been caught in the process of bloodshed by an oblivious girl, Orihime Inoue. Will she survive this new encounter, or will the green eyed predator show a rare hint of mercy?

A/N: Hello out there ^^ I've finally found the time to write another small one-shot, this time with a somewhat unusual theme. I'm just tired of writing the same thing over and over again, and reading the same Ulquihime fics for that sake, so my mission with this was to bring a breath of fresh air to the Ulquihime one-shots.

I hope whoever finds the time to read this is gonna like it, because I definitely! Enjoyed writing it x)

Enjoy – R & R.

She knew that she was being followed, and every basic instinct in her body told her to run; run for her life.

What she had seen was not supposed to befall her eyes. No one was supposed to see it; the sin defined as 'Bloodshed'. The clean cut from a knife, the hard metal cutting through a seemingly innocent man's throat, and the red liquid that still tainted her mind. She was in shock at first. Not realizing what she had seen in the narrow alley or what had happened to begin with. All she saw was red. And then, when the owner of the knife had turned around, his hands bloodied and his black bangs swaying lightly upon realizing her presence, she saw the color green in the otherwise black darkness; Endless green predatory eyes that made shivers run down her spine.

She ran.

The sound of her shoes clacking against the hard stone road made panic fill her being, while the narrow streets only seemed to go on endlessly; never showing her mercy or any hopes of an escape. Was her fate to die in those black streets? Where the light would never touch her face again?

She tried to calm her breathing while she ran, but it was hopeless. The panic urged fresh air into her lounges faster and faster; hard heavy breaths that made her throat sore and her chest rise in a rapid motion.

She knew that he could hear her. Her heavy breath, the clacking of her shoes, and she knew that an escape wouldn't be an option. Even though she didn't know who this man was, or his motives for doing what he had done, Orihime knew that mercy couldn't possibly exist in his green predator-like eyes. He couldn't be human; she was not running from a man, she was running from a monster.

She tried to run in all sorts of directions, turning sharply at every possible corner, but she simply felt his presence draw closer. It was like nothing she had ever felt before; a heavy sensation similar to that of being pushed under water. Her senses went numb, the sound of her breathing and the sound of her shoes disappeared, and it was cold; ice cold. For a moment, she wondered if the feeling was like the breath of death, but she quickly realized that, that was not the case.

He was simply there; in the darkness of the alley with her.

Unable to accept her fate, she turned again at another sharp corner, but defeat slowly began to weigh her down when she realized that she had run into her own deathtrap; a dead end.

Her hands tried to find comfort by clutching at the soft fabric of her shirt, just at her chest, but it only made her more frightened. She could feel and hear her own heartbeat; resounding in her ear like the constant reminder that she was still alive. But how long would that last? How many minutes, or second for that matter, would she still be able to feel the center of her life beating in her chest?

Trembling in defeat, she turned her back against the nearest wall; the hard and cold surface at the back of her head felt oddly soothing. And she needed it, because she could hear him now. The echoing sound of his footsteps filled every inch of her being and she forced her breathing to slowly calm down. She was ready for him.

He stepped out from the dark; his figure proud and straight, the bloodied hands hidden in the depths of his pockets, the black locks of hair framing his pale face perfectly, and the green predator-like eyes calm. If she didn't know better, she would have called him beautiful.

At first, he didn't speak. He simply looked at her, while he approached her with slow steady steps. Orihime wanted to escape those deep green eyes that seemed to go on endlessly. But whenever she gathered the courage to look away, her eyes automatically turned back towards him again. She knew that he was a killer; she knew that she was doomed, but even so she couldn't help but feel fascinated by those eyes.

She wondered… Was he the angel of death?

"S-stay back!" She tried to sound firm and brave, but her voice just sounded frightened. She pushed her back further against the wall; naively thinking that perhaps, if she pushed hard enough, the bricks would magically suck her into safety.

However, he didn't flinch upon hearing her frightened voice like she had initially thought he would. Instead, he simply stopped 1 meter from her; his bloodied hands staying in the depths of his pockets, and his green eyes calm and collected. He didn't look like a killer, Orihime thought to herself… He simply looked lonely.

Suddenly, she didn't fear for her life anymore. She was fully aware of the fact that he was dangerous, and that she would most likely end up dead one way or another, but he didn't frighten her. He had transformed from the monster in her mind, into something she couldn't comprehend yet. However, this new form wasn't scary. And Orihime Inoue, much to her own surprise, wasn't afraid.

"You will die here." His voice was cold, monotone and calm. As if, the walls had decided to whisper in her ear. She inhaled sharply when realizing the cold radiation that his body seemed to emit naturally. It was not an uncomfortable feeling; She was simply not accustomed to it…. yet.

When he moved even closer, and she could smell the faint scent of blood on him, she tilted her head slightly to the side and closed her deep brown eyes. She dwelled in the sensation; that pleasant, yet dangerous tickling feeling that started from her fingertips, and moved throughout her whole body. He was close, almost too close; the fabric of his black coat brushing lightly against her shirt, and his breath lingering at her cheek.

"You're alone." His voice resounded in her ear again, and even though she still kept her eyes closed, she could feel his eyes at her face. "No one will come to save you."

His words were true, Orihime knew that, but oddly enough, the realization only made a small smile form across her lips. There was no need to cry, be frightened, or doom her situation anymore… because she knew that this man, this fascinating cold man, was so much more than what met the eyes. She could just feel it.

"I know." She opened her eyes, looked at him with newfound courage, and she kept smiling. She must have looked stupid to him; smiling when she was supposed to cry, panic and beg for her miserable life. But it was okay. "And I know that I probably won't live through this…"

Her fingers itched with the need to touch him and the pale marble like skin that adorned his face. She knew that it was an illogical thought, and at first she simply suppressed the sudden impulse. But, what did she have to lose anyway? So instead of holding back and trembling in her own insecurity, she moved her delicate fingers to his face, and cupped his cheek with care. He was unbelievably cold; like a living corpse, but he didn't pull away. He kept being unfazed.

"I hoped that I could live a little longer…" She laughed a bit, nervously, when she felt his face move slightly between her hands. "Life has never been kind to me, but I never really hated it."

She remembered all the good times and all the sad times in her life. There would be a lot of people she would miss, but she wasn't the one to defy fate if it wanted her to succumb in the endless slumber that was death… and certainly not if her executioner was this seemingly lonely man with deep green eyes. She didn't blame him; she sympathized with him.

Another small laugh escaped her lips, and she felt him draw closer; his jacket now brushing directly against her upper body, though she managed to ignore it and speak; "You know… fate is a strange thing." She smiled softly to herself. "This morning, I thought about this day as just another normal day in the week. But now I'm here, with you."

She suppressed the need to shiver, when a cold bloodied hand found its way to the curved spot at her back. She didn't even bother to think about what those deep red hands would do to her completely white shirt, how the red color would taint the otherwise innocent white, so instead, she kept talking; "Perhaps if we had met under different circumstances, we would have been friends…" The thought made her smile and she looked at him again. She could feel his body against her own, and the blood from his hand soaking through her white shirt, but she didn't care. "But I guess that was not meant to happen."

"Are you afraid?"

His voice was clear, sharp, and cut through the air mercilessly like a knife. She didn't have to think about her answer for more than a couple of seconds; "No, I'm not."

And that was all it took. His eyes narrowed, the first sign of any kind of emotion, and she felt the tip of his fingernails digging into the back of her shirt, until she could feel it directly against her skin.

A small sigh escaped her lips automatically from the sensation, and for some odd reason, her eyes felt heavy. At first, she simply ignored this, but as the seconds flew by, the drowsiness moved down her whole body; enveloping her like a heavy curtain that forced to take away all of her senses. She had no idea why she suddenly felt so tired and relaxed, but soon, she was standing solely because the green eyed male was holding her locked around the waist and supporting her.

She tried to mumble something, thinking that the drowsiness must have been because death was starting to occur, but he hushed her with a pale finger to her lips. It was similar to that earlier feeling… the feeling of being forced underwater.

"Ulquiorra." Even though her eyes started to close by themselves, she managed to see him hovering over her and dangerously close to her face. His voice was the only thing left that stood clearly in her mind; "That's all you need to know right now, woman."

She saw his face coming closer and closer while her vision gradually became blurrier. However, she didn't need her vision to know what was happening… and when she felt the cold, yet soft sensation, of something pressing against her lips, and the taste of blood lingered at her tongue, she concluded that she hadn't shared a normal kiss.

She had received the kiss of death.

It only lasted a couple of seconds, and when she once again opened her eyes she was at home; cold, wet, and confused. At first, she thought that everything had been a dream, that she had simply hit her head on the way home or something, but when she realized that her white shirt was still bloodied from the green eyed killer's hands… Ulquiorra's hands… She knew that he had shown mercy.

The predator had shown her mercy.