Chapter 46: Lambs to the Slaughter

[Batsu POV]

"Please, this is combat, not a conversation…"

Is she really the same person?

The last Shinigami had failed to draw his sword, trembling in fear. His sunken pupils had dilated as he watched his comrades being subjected to a bloody fate. Three feeble bodies lay at her feet, and he was the last victim. Yachiru slid her tantou out of her most recent kill. Her dim blue pupils glowed as she turned to the last man. 

*shhh*

"Hiii~!"

His bladder relaxed, causing his black hakama to darken with urine. The sword at his side remained sheathed. He made no move to engage, rather he fell onto the dirt.

*Thud*

"P-please, we were wrong."

His plea went ignored as she trudged closer to him. One step. Three steps. She arrived at his feet, looming over his frightened face. His doom was sealed in his fellows' blood. She raised her right hand. The rusted tantou cast a vicious shadow under the sun. A glint of dull steel spoke of his imminent demise. 

The image of a vagrant's cruelty and a Shinigami's terror evoked conflicting emotions in the audience. Regardless, the victim's passing had been set in stone. Her saintly voice offered some solace. 

"Any parting words?"

"P-please, w-we were wrong."

His parting words were anything but. Without mercy, she swung her blade at the kneeling man's neck.

*WHISH*

*thuk*

"Murdering Shinigami is a serious crime, you miserable lout."

Interrupting the execution was a man with a muscular frame of 179 cm. His appearance was befitting of a natural-born warrior. Two scars streaked across his forehead. His black hair was tied in a traditional topknot while his bushy eyebrows were raised, looking directly at Yachiru with his piercing, beady pupils. The large fingers of his right hand caught her tantou at the spine of the blade, stopping it in place before the kneeling man's neck. In his left hand was a purple handle Zanpakutou sheathed in a redwood scabbard. 

Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni. I felt an uncomfortable pinch in my heart at his sudden intervention. 

The frightened victim fled the scene, leaving a trail of urine behind himself. Yamamoto's lips twitched causing his thick mustache to shift. Ignoring the disgrace, he turned his attention to Yachiru. 

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I do not."

"How reckless."

He questioned Yachiru in an observant capacity rather than with a reproachful tone. He studied her unmoved face, her faint blue eyes, and the shaking hands that gripped her rusted tantou. 

Yamamoto accused her with a tone full of force and authority. 

"Murderer. Is anyone willing to come to your defense?"

Yachiru lowered her head, causing her patchy black locks to drape down. She struggled to remove her tantou from his grasp. In a frantic display, she abandoned the tantō in her left hand and clutched both hands onto the handle of the contested blade. It rattled as they both fought for the weapon. My fingers itched as I clenched my fists.

Waves of scorching heat leaked from his body as his voice turned cruel and sadistic. A remorseless sneer took shape under his thick facial hair.

"Not answering my questions? You seem very attached to this flimsy piece of metal. Should I... break this puny thing?"

*Krrk*

His fingers pinched the tantou, flexing the eroded steel into a tight bend. The grip of her frail right hand weakened, slowly surrendering under his torturous manipulations. For the first time, I heard her make a heartfelt request. 

"P-please. Please, stop. It's one of the only possessions I treasure. I'll follow you, so please, stop."

"This chipped knife? Treasure? Ha! Willing to speak now? Go on, any defense for your actions?"

I could taste iron in my mouth as I bit the inside of my cheek. There was something I could do. 

"Wait!"

"Hmm? You have something to say?"

Yamamoto caught my interjection, maintaining his focus on Yachiru. I jogged across the gap to the three bodies. Pointing down at their corpses, I stated the obvious. 

"These men, who did they serve? And where did the last man go? He ran away, last I saw."

I spun around and scanned through the sea of black. There was no feasible way I could pick out a single man with an unremarkable appearance. So, I did the next best thing. I could feel everyone's stupefaction at my bold, idiotic diversion.

*Shhh* *Shhh* *Shhh*

I dragged the three bodies to the center of the hill. Finishing the chore, I looked toward both factions and then toward the scattered neutral Shinigami opposite the execution stand. Now at the greatest vantage point on the plateau, I shouted, hoping to find the one responsible. 

"Does anyone know these men?!"

"They would be mine, darling. I couldn't hear you the first time, you see. My age is getting to me it seems."

Aged like a ghost, dreary as winter's dusk, and as dry as famine, a pestilent voice wove through the Centralist's side. Flocks of birds fled from the hill, migrating in droves. An eclipse seemed to have swallowed the Sun, robbing me of any warmth. Sweat surfaced from my pores as the humidity rose, just like my memories. Just like our dark clouds...

My vision pulled away from the neutral Shinigami. Scanning to the right, I squinted, running my eyes over the countless noblemen. Their expressions were not particularly pretty, many looked upset as they parted, allowing for a figure to come forth. 

The Zanpakutou at my side rattled, but the world went noiseless.

My skin crawled as I gazed upon the monster in human skin. With sunken, unseen eyes, he tracked the silhouette of my body. I shivered when I felt his vision linger on my features. My arms crossed over my chest, halting his visual feast. Although unseen, his gaze lifted from my bosom, landing on my scowling expression. 

The rotten maw opened, revealing an abyssal well leading to the back of his throat.

"What is it, love? Don't like what you see? Hihehe~."

Deep wrinkles tarnish his visage, adding to his sinister aura. The excessive cloth of his Shihakushou and haori did little to hide his skeletal ribs and emaciated figure. Gaunt and low, his ghastly nature slinked forward, leisurely striding across the hill. The already barren ground seemed to decay in the wake of his languid march. 

The blood in my veins ran cold as he hobbled his way to the center. Hunched but not crippled, I understood the nature of this 'thing' by instinct. In my short life, there have been moments…

Anxiety, Dread, Terror. 

None come close as I now face this abomination, this inhuman creature that lives its years in wicked existence. 

The hands of the fallen emerge from their tombs, seizing my ankles. 

I cannot move. 

I cannot flee. 

I can only watch.

This predator is not one I know of. 

He is no man. 

No hound. 

No beast.

He is malice. 

'Darling~. It almost seems like you've seen a monster. Why it… almost hurts my feelings. Hehihi~.'

"T-the… these are your men?"

Parched and dry, my throat cracked as I refused to bite on the bait.

His rotten mouth cracked a foul grin. Edging closer to the three bodies, he stepped forward while I withdrew. The putrescine smell of death hung in the humid air. This scent didn't stem from the recently deceased, no, it leaked off the ghoulish Shinigami captain. I fought off my desire to gag, stifling my stomach by swallowing multiple times. 

He examined each body in a thorough fashion. Pulling eyelids apart, prying mouths open, inspecting the fatal wounds. Spindly fingers fondled the three bodies, searching for grim clues. His revolting fascination and sick spectacle prompted some Shinigami in the circle to turn away. 

His morbid curiosity was evident in his murmurs. 

'Amazing. Amateur, yet… marvelous. So much talent in such little movement. She managed to nick the abdominal aortic valves in the flurry, multiple times at that. And not even from the posterior… how extraordinary. Still… I've seen better.'

His frail hands slipped inside his white haori to retrieve a cloth. Wiping his dirtied hands clean, his fascination was soon directed to Yachiru who was still struggling against Yamamoto. I could feel his predation set on her frail body. 

I stepped into his line of sight, blocking his target.

The fiend's head gradually tilted up, and there, I finally met his eyes. 

Black sclera with colorless, white pupils. 

Silent eyes. 

Windows of a profane depth. 

Unholy, heralding the touch of death. 

A crooked grimace sank into his wrinkled skin. Faint and grave, he paused before denouncing me. 

'You would come between a man and his passion? You are… very fortunate, little bunny. Very, very fortunate.'

Whispers of the dead drew closer to my ear, begging me to run. Yet I stood, foolish and brash, I rejected the counsel. The Zanpakutou at my side hummed.

A glimmering shadow passed through the lights of his eyes. The grimace lifted into an amused grin. 

"Not bad little bunny, not bad. Your mask needs work. I can see what you hide. Mustn't show it to your loved ones. Then you'd be nobody's bunny. Better to let go, love. Kihihi~! Nonetheless, Hachiban! Come!"

His words paralyzed me, but my heart still pounded within my ribs. A man sprinted from the league of Centralists. It was the same sickly, pale man who escaped when Yamamoto confronted Yachiru. His pale complexion grew transparent as his fearful expression ran free.

Settling at the monster's side, the man trembled. His eyes darted between me and the three deceased men. The stench of urine was still present in his clothing. 

The monster peered over to his subordinate. His aged voice demanded restitution.

"Confess boy. Speak your sins and profess the innocence of the young lady facing Yamamoto-taichō."

"I…"

The man choked up, tears welling up in his eyes. His hands began to scratch at his arms, trying to relieve an itch. But it soon turned bloody as he clawed at his raw flesh. Streams of brackish liquid slid down the sides of his face. He fell to the ground, staring at the heavens as he howled his admission of guilt. 

*Thud*

"I'M A SINNER! We framed the girl so we could have her! I'M A SINNER! I'M A SINNERRR~!"

The monster gently stroked the wailing man's hair. Gasps and sobs continued to echo as the fiend comforted the lost lamb. It leaned closer to the defenseless newborn, hugging the lamb's vulnerable head against its withered torso.

"Shh~, Shh~, it's okay, it's okay now. That wasn't so hard, was it? Everyone is so proud of you, so proud. You've been so strong today! But…"

'No…'

The man's croak was almost inaudible, but I caught it, the throes of agony and suffering.

Coaxing the lost and fearful, it slid its skeletal hand lower and began to tenderly stroke the lamb's cheek. 

'You know what happens to liars. Go. Go on boy, speak, for the rush of life has passed you by.'

It brushed the lamb's lips with its weathered thumb, gliding back and forth in gentle arcs. 

'Let the world know you were here…'

"I'M SORRY I-"

*POP**CRAACK*

*thud*

Without warning, the monster clutched the open jaws of the sickly man and ripped his head apart. A bloody, bony jaw lay at the foot of the fiend. The jawless body slumped to the dirt, its tongue splayed out, wriggling with the last vestige of life. Unable to speak, weeping hums faded away as the light in his eyes dimmed. 

I stared at the body, pondering these past few moments. This eye-opening scene chilled the bones in my body. I couldn't breathe. High-pitched ringing consumed all sound. My mind went blank, replaying the despair of the lost lamb. 

But I broke free from the snare when the ghoul spoke. 

"Yamamoto-taichou, I do believe you can release the girl now. I apologize for the actions of my… subordinates."

Yamamoto's voice reverberated across the open terrain. 

"That doesn't mean I won't punish this youngster."

*Thuk*

"Yacchan!"

Yamamoto wound up and pummeled Yachiru's stomach with an uppercut, instantly knocking her out. I cried out and started sprinting back in their direction. 

But a breeze blew past my ear, a hair-raising whisper in the wind. 

'Bye-bye little bunny. Bye-bye.'

I ran. I ran away as fast as I could.