Challenge #002; Middles
There were many kinds of Hollows. Hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions, of Hollows existed in this world, and no two Hollow looked exactly alike. There were similar qualities between Hollows, but each one was different and unique.
Between all the Hollows in this world, there were only two constants between them all: the mask that protected their faces and concealed their true identities, and the hole in the center of the chest.
Grimmjow yawned, pointed teeth gleaming in the dark. Typically, the hybrid did not leave the sanctity of Huerco Mondo. Unless, of course, he felt the need to stir up some trouble on the mortal plain, or kick a certain orange-haired punk's ass.
Grimmjow grinned at the memory.
He surveyed the city, green eyes staring at the sidewalk hungrily. Tonight he had left the Huerco Mondo because of a severe, aching pain he felt in his stomach - the location of the empty hole that marked him with the characteristics of a Hollow. The zanpakutou at his belt made a loud clinking sound as Grimmjow landed on the concrete sidewalk, but went unnoticed by the Tokyo nightcrawlers. The beauty of being a spiritual being, Grimmjow supposed.
The pain in his stomach burned again, but Grimmjow paid it no heed. It wouldn't be long now, he assured himself, it wouldn't be long before the pain would leave him.
Grimmjow bared his fangs and sank his teeth into the neck of a young woman. The woman struggled, absolutely oblivious to Grimmjow's actions but keenly aware she was dying. People around her panicked and someone began to call for an ambulance, but it would be too late. She was dead in another moment.
When her soul rose from the fallen body, Grimmjow wasted no time in devouring it. The hybrid wiped the blood of his angled face and grinned. The pain in his stomach was slightly dulled.
Tonight was Grimmjow's feeding time.
(And ze table.)
Between all the Hollows in this world, there were only two constants between them all: the mask that protected their faces and concealed their true identities, and the hole in the center of the chest.
Grimmjow yawned, pointed teeth gleaming in the dark. Typically, the hybrid did not leave the sanctity of Huerco Mondo. Unless, of course, he felt the need to stir up some trouble on the mortal plain, or kick a certain orange-haired punk's ass.
Grimmjow grinned at the memory.
He surveyed the city, green eyes staring at the sidewalk hungrily. Tonight he had left the Huerco Mondo because of a severe, aching pain he felt in his stomach - the location of the empty hole that marked him with the characteristics of a Hollow. The zanpakutou at his belt made a loud clinking sound as Grimmjow landed on the concrete sidewalk, but went unnoticed by the Tokyo nightcrawlers. The beauty of being a spiritual being, Grimmjow supposed.
The pain in his stomach burned again, but Grimmjow paid it no heed. It wouldn't be long now, he assured himself, it wouldn't be long before the pain would leave him.
Grimmjow bared his fangs and sank his teeth into the neck of a young woman. The woman struggled, absolutely oblivious to Grimmjow's actions but keenly aware she was dying. People around her panicked and someone began to call for an ambulance, but it would be too late. She was dead in another moment.
When her soul rose from the fallen body, Grimmjow wasted no time in devouring it. The hybrid wiped the blood of his angled face and grinned. The pain in his stomach was slightly dulled.
Tonight was Grimmjow's feeding time.
(And ze table.)