Shiro stood with his toes in the soft, white sand, staring out at the ocean as waves crashed onto the shore. The sun was just about to slip under the horizon, bringing with it the safe cloak of night. The seven year old albino dared not come to this spot without being able to hide in the dark. Argentina was a rather large, sunny country, with lush greens and warm beaches. The sun shone nearly everyday tinting the native's skin a deep tan, all but him. He was the devil child, the one with demon's eyes. No one would come near him, unless it was to ram a steel pipe or a fist into the back of his skull. He was always bruised and bloody almost daily, without a mother or father to protect him. All he had was his eighteen year old brother Kaien, who was the only one who could stand to look at him. He loved his brother very much. Kaien was always there to console him, to patch him up, and in some cases, if he was quick enough, he was able to stop the beatings. Shiro sighed, eyes vacant as he stared out at the vast ocean, wishing, dreaming for a place where he could belong. Where nothing would hurt him ever again. Crossing his arms, he rubbed them for warmth as a cool, salty breeze ruffled his hair. When his hand brushed over his elbow, he winced, screwing his eyes tightly closed. The bruise burned to the touch and hot tears ran down his cheeks as it spiked up his arm and into his sore shoulder. He fell to his knees, fingers digging into the sand beneath him. His tears stained the white grains a tan color as he hung his head low. Why did he have to be different? What did he ever do wrong? He wished, pleaded for the pain and torment to stop. Why couldn't someone look at him with some other expression than hate and spite?

"My, my, a child shouldn't cry," a deep, soothing, masculine voice prickled at his ears as if carried on the wind itself. Eyes snapping wide open, Shiro turned his head to the side, searching for the owner of the voice. His gaze landed on a grouping of rather large boulders a few yards away. A cloaked figure sat perched on top of one of the boulders, one knee bent and resting on top of the rock while the other leg dangled freely. Shining red eyes stared back at him from underneath a black cloak, and Shiro inhaled a shaky breath. It was pitch black outside now, but those eyes shone like two brightly polished rubies, glowing in the dark. The small albino child felt a shiver run down his spine as he scrambled to his feet, intent on putting as much distance between him and this stranger as he could. The man watched him for a minute, amusement flickering like flames in those unnatural eyes, before jumping down from the rock. Shiro let out a choked sound of fear as the man began to move towards him, slinking along the sand fluidly, reminding the young silver haired child of a panther or a jaguar. He turned his head away from the man, golden eyes searching for a way to escape. There was no one around, no one to hear him scream.

"You have such lovely eyes child," Shiro stiffened when he heard the man speak again, sounding much too close. Turning his head forward again, his eyes widened to the size of plates, his pupils dilated in fear. A smooth, cold hand cupped his cheek, sharp nails scrapping lightly over his pale skin. The stranger was knelt before him, peering into Shiro's eyes with interest. "Your eyes are special my child," the man whispered, and Shiro flinched as a warm breath washed over his face. Gulping, he clenched his hands at his side, limbs shaking in fear.

"Wha'? I-I do...wh-who are y-you?" Shiro managed to stutter out. A small chuckle resonated from the figure in front of him, as the man's free hand came up to lower the hood of his cloak.

"I, my child, am called Draven," the man stated softly, his eyes searching Shiro's young expression. The small child stared at the man, mouth hanging open. Long dark brown hair framed a finely chiseled face. High cheek bones made the man's eyes look sunken in, shadowing them, although they still shone as bright as day. There was not a blemish on the man's pale skin, almost as pale as his own, and the man's lips were a deep shade of red, almost as if painted with blood. Shiro chuckled at his thoughts. That was just stupid. Why would someone paint their lips with blood? A finely trimmed brown eyebrow raised when Shiro shook his head. Stepping away from Draven, Shiro turned his head to gaze out at the waves.

"Why d-do you keep asking ab...about my eyes?" He questioned, not daring to look Draven in the eyes. He had never seen the man before in his life. He was sure he would have remembered someone who was as pale as he, himself was.

"You are too young to understand now, my child, but someday I'll be back. Be strong until then," Draven murmured, placing a hand on Shiro's bare shoulder. The small boy flinched at the touch, goosebumps rising on his skin.

"What m-makes you think I'll st-still be here?" Shiro questioned, pleased that his voice had steadied out some. Draven frowned, rising to his feet. His cloak fluttered in the breeze as his eyes narrowed. Silence swarmed around the two, making Shiro feel very uneasy.

"Shiro!" The call broke their staring contest, and both turned to face the newcomer. Shiro's eyes widened, and relief flowed through him at seeing his older brother running across the sand towards him. Kaien didn't pay the stranger any mind as he fell to his knees in front of Shiro, wrapping him in a warm hug. "I was worried sick! Are you all right?" Kaien questioned as Shiro buried his head against his brother's shoulder. The small albino nodded softly, as Kaien brushed his fingers through his hair. Draven watched the two brothers for a moment before a sinister expression crossed his face.

"Your eyes hold power young child, power I plan to unlock," he whispered, and Kaien turned to him for the first time. Releasing his brother, he stood and faced the man, a dark look on his face.

"And just who the hell do you think you are? What were you doing to my brother?" Kaien growled, poking the man in the chest. Draven ignored him, instead locking his red eyes with Shiro's golden orbs.

"I will obtain that power young one, and nothing will stop me," Draven whispered again, his voice carrying on the wind.

"Now wait just a minute! Hey look at me!" Kaien yelled, grabbing Draven's shoulder. The brunette turned to him, eyes narrowed dangerously. In a blink of an eye, Draven's arms were wrapped tightly around Kaien's shoulders, almost crushing the bones. Kaien let out a scream of pain when Draven bit into his neck, fangs sinking deep into the muscle, making the younger male twitch and try to squirm out of the man's grip. After a moment, Kaien went limp in the man's arms, his head tilted back. Tears fell from Shiro's eyes as he watched his brother's eyes dim, his mouth hanging open as he gasped for breath.

"R-Run Shi...Shir-o!" Kaien gasped between coughs, as his fingers twitched helplessly at his sides. Shiro whimpered, staring in horror at the scene before him. His brother was in danger, dying before his very own eyes, and he could do nothing to stop it. Draven released Kaien's neck, turning to rest his chin on the raven haired human's shoulder. His gaze locked on Shiro, and a cruel smirk twisted onto his lips as blood dripped down his chin. Shiro turned hastily, and sprinted away from the beach. He had no idea where he was going, but he had to get away from that horrible vision.

"I'll be back for you later my child," Draven's voice called out to him, wrapping him in a suffocating blanket. Shiro cried, eyes shut tight as he ran. He kept telling himself that it was all just a horrible dream, but a vacant hole had already started to open up in his chest. His brother was dead. Now he had no one.

It had been twelve long years since that fateful night, and a now nineteen year old Shiro stood rooted in the same spot as all those years ago. It was the anniversary of his brother's death, and as always, he came to that spot to pay his respects to him. Kaien had saved him that night, something he felt horrible about. Kaien had so much more potential then he did, and yet he threw it all away just to make sure that Shiro was safe. He didn't cry anymore, the tears had dried up long ago. No matter what happened, no matter the pain he was in, he just couldn't cry. Sighing, Shiro ran a hand through his hair as he let his toes dip into the water. Leaning down, he trailed his fingers through the water, his eyes closed as he let the night soak into his skin. He had never been the same since Kaien's death. He'd become cold, and barely ever spoke to anyone. Since he had grown and become stronger, the beatings had stopped. Now people just skirted around him, afraid to get too close to the "pale demon" as they called him. "I miss you Kaien," he whispered softly, before turning to leave. He missed the shining green eyes that watched him from behind the very rocks Draven had first appeared on.

Shiro stuffed his hands into his pockets as he made his way back to his home. It was a sticky, hot night outside, so he quickly stripped down and climbed into bed. He didn't sleep, instead staring up at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, until his eyes felt like sand. Closing his eyes, he sighed, rolling onto his side and tucking one arm under his pillow to prop himself up. When he was comfortable again, he slowly opened his eyes, only to have them snap open all the way as he darted off the bed, backing up until his bare back hit the cool wall behind him. His chest heaved as he took in gasping breaths. Green eyes peered at him from the other side of his bed, and Shiro was quite thankful to have the piece of furniture between himself and the owner of those eyes.

"Brother why do you run from me?" The voice chilled Shiro's blood and he shook his head vigorously, eyes screwed tightly shut.

"You're not real! You're dead! Not real, not real, I'm just hallucinating," he whispered, his voice trembling violently. Kaien stood from his crouched position where he had been watching his brother, and slowly moved around the bed, keeping Shiro is his sights.

"But I'm not dead Shiro. Well, not fully. Didn't you miss me?" Kaien questioned, as Shiro whimpered in fright. He really wished the wall behind him would open him up and swallow him whole. The way those green eyes shone reminded him of Draven, and he knew that the thing in front of him was not his brother. "I've come to take you with me Shiro. To a place where no one will ever look down on you again," Kaien whispered, coming to stand directly in front of Shiro.

"You're not my brother! He's dead!" Shiro yelled, trying to dart around the man. Kaien growled, slamming his fist into the wall next to Shiro's head, who stared up at him with wide golden eyes. Kaien's hand moved to trace the skin underneath Shiro's eyes.

"He was right you know. You're eyes are very special," he murmured and Shiro flinched away from his touch. A scowl formed on Kaien's lips and he fisted Shiro's hair in a tight grip making the albino cry out. "I'm going to bring you with me Shiro," Kaien whispered against his ear, before leaning down to bite into the silver haired man's neck. Shiro let out a scream of pain and agony, his hands fisting into the cloak around Kaien's shoulders trying to push him off. He could feel his body weakening as blood was drawn from it. His limbs felt heavy and his head fell forward. Just before he lost consciousness, Kaien pulled away from his neck. Shiro stared up at the face of his brother, at the monster that had just killed him. For he was to die, there was no way he could survive after loosing so much blood. As he crumpled to the floor, his eye lids fluttering closed, he silently prayed for the first time in his life.

When Shiro awoke, it was safe to say that he was frightened, confused, and very, very thirsty. Pulling himself up into a sitting position, he glanced around the room. He sat in the middle of a large bed, covered with red satin sheets, black drapes hung from the posts around the frame. A dresser stood to the left of him, a large, clear jug of water resting on it's surface. Shiro scrambled out of bed and grabbed the jug. Bringing it to his lips, he drained the contents, only to find himself still thirsty afterward. He cried out, clenching his hair in his hands as he paced the room. His ears picked up whispers and then the faint sound of footsteps coming nearer. His head snapped towards the door when the footsteps stopped. The wood creaked as it was opened, and Shiro snarled at the intruder.

"Ah, you're awake," Draven stated, stepping into the room. Shiro growled, baring his teeth. He flinched when one of his teeth split his bottom lip open, and blood slowly oozed from the cut. Licking his lips, he froze. When the blood hit his tongue, the dry, cottony feeling disappeared, and he licked his lips again. "You must be thirsty, come, let's find you someone to help with that," Draven said, holding out his hand. His ruby eyes shone brightly and Shiro found himself moving towards the brunette, placing his hand in the other's. Draven smiled, before turning and pulling him out of the room.

He had killed someone that night, and found out what he had become, what his brother had become. Shiro was a vampire, a creature of the night. He had yelled and screamed when he found out, Kaien having to restrain him. He didn't want to kill, didn't want to live forever. His entire nineteen year existence had been hell, why would he want to spend an eternity like that? They hadn't even asked him, instead just forced the change on him. As time went on he became stubborn, often refusing to feed, until it got so bad that Draven or Kaien force feed him. He often got into fights with his brother about his attitude.

"Why do you have to be so difficult!" Kaien bellowed as he forced Shiro's mouth open, holding a cup of crimson blood up to pale lips. Shiro turned his head away from the cup, fighting not to breath. He knew if he smelled the blood, his control would snap and he would give in. Growling, Kaien forced his head forward again.

"I don't want it! Can't you just leave me alone?" Shiro screamed back, digging his claws into Kaien's shoulders and making the raven haired vampire hiss.

"Why don't you kill? After all they did to you, you still hold value in their lives!" Kaien yelled, forcing the blood into Shiro's mouth. The silver haired vampire choked, swallowing in order to breath. Once the cup was empty, Kaien stepped back, allowing Shiro to fall to his knees. Shiro clutched the fabric of his pants as he gasped in breaths.

"Go to hell," Shiro growled, raising his head to lock his brother with a murderous glare. Kaien snarled before turning on his heel and leaving the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

Years went by, and little by little Shiro started to lose his humanity. Something he was terrified of. He didn't want to lose the last part of him that was still human, that still cared. He didn't want to turn into a monster like Draven and Kaien. The two spent their nights massacring whole families, often just to let the blood spill onto the ground. In Shiro's eyes it was a waste. A waste of sustenance and of life, and it killed him to bare witness to it. Most of the time he would hunt alone, staying as far away from the two as he could, until it was time to rest. All three slept in the same room, albeit separate from one another, but there was little privacy. The years dragged on, decades and then finally a century passing. They had traveled a lot in that time, and had finally come to a stop in Japan. It was there that Shiro parted ways with Kaien and Draven, the two being run off the island by the Kuchiki Clan that resided in the area. After it became known of their feeding habits, the head of the Kuchiki Clan, Ginrei, ordered their banishment. Shiro was safe from the punishment, and was given the offer to stay if he so pleased, which he took happily. Draven had not been pleased by that outcome, and swore that one day he would come back. That the power in Shiro's eyes belonged to him and that nothing could keep it from him.

As time went on, Shiro began to change. He gained his humanity back, learning and perfecting the art of just taking a small amount of blood from his victims. He also learned just exactly what his eyes could do. It seemed that he could charm a person if he could form the connection. It had to be complete, direct eye contact, but after the human was charmed they would remember nothing of what had happened, meaning he could feed from the same human more than once. Those eyes could also control a victim, but only for a short period of time. Shiro never used that power, unnerved by being able to completely control someone with just a look.

He met Grimmjow on one of his hunts, and ended up getting into a fight with the teal haired vampire. After he had beaten Grimmjow into the ground, the vampire had stuck to him like a little puppy. Grimmjow was younger than Shiro by a good decade or so, but was advanced in the levels of speed and brute strength. The two became close friends, never found without the other. Until Ulquiorra came along. Then the two became three. Ulquiorra was the quiet type, always just staring. His wide green eyes soaking in everything. If anyone caught those eyes, they would become frozen, unable to move. The trio became the most known and feared of the vampiric realm. No one dared to question them, and many followed their example. That's what gave Shiro the idea that perhaps humans and vampires could coexist together without secrets. From that thought, NightStalkers was born.