bridges07: kingbirth [twisted lie remix]

King made a mistake in trying to attack Lupe. The moment the spark touched his tip the giant was on him. He grabbed the former captain’s wrist, hoisted it into the air, and didn’t even so much as flinch as the lightning pierce a hole through the ceiling. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what it means to be a dog, Lorezno,” Lupe called out. As he did, Alfred’s boot smashed into King’s body and sent him flying backwards at the door of the shop. Should everything go as planned, when he hit it the wood didn’t so much as tremble. 

“You were a dog for ya’ father, a dog for me, a dog for that captain, and a dog for Hinaai. Now yous a dog for this crazy masked fella’. Yet here you are trying to bark, bark, bark. Alfred, show’em what we do to dogs who don’t stop barkin’.” 

When Alfred reached king, he lifted his leg above the shinigami’s kneecap and stomped as hard as he possibly could. 

Alfred didn’t respond. His hands curled up into tight fists and he lurched at King with the aim to smash his skull into the wall behind him. He stance and attack were off balanced and heavy, but the bodyguard apparently cared little for defense. 

“Ya’ know, Lorenzo, if you just gave us the reports this’d all be over by now. But ya’ keep bullshittin’ around. When are ya’ just going to fork over the material? The name?” 

Blade met flesh and left a long red line down Alfred’s side. It bled profusely, staining the black shirt and blue jeans and leaving a small red footprint with every step backwards Alfred took. 

“Ya’ wound me, Lorenzo. Didn’t I tell you that you could never leave us, kid? It’s like you just ignore what’cha betters say. No wonder Hinaai never loved ya’ back.” 

Alfred’s body shuttered once and it hunched over as if in pain. A cloying spiritual pressure force itself against the walls, causing them to groan from the sudden weight. It was dark and evil and rank; this was the aura of a hollow. 

“And ya’ don’t even know the name. Man, it’s almost like ya’ a dog too stupid to take orders. I’m done. Alfred, rip his head off.” 

“GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” 

The roar was crazy heavy. It was not human, and the dog mask split open and spewed blood and spittle all over the hallway as it roared. The spiritual pressure skyrocketed to the point of impossibility, and when the scream finally stopped a pair of red eyes appeared in the empty black sockets of Alfred’s mask. 

This time when the bodyguard lurched, his hand became a clawed and deadly thing. It swiped at King’s head with enough force to tear it clean off his shoulders. 

“You ain’t a wolf, Lorenzo,” Lupe said. 

Alfred stumbled once and fell to the ground face first. He whimpered and rolled on his back like a dog did when beaten. Blood formed a black puddle under him, and the pain its legs kept it from doing anything more then look nasty. 

“You had four choices, and none of those were wolf. Yousa dog. Yous will always be a dog. Not a wolf, a fucking dog! A dog of the state, a dog of women, and a dog of your own sins!” 

The chair Lupe was sitting in jerked as he kicked it back from the desk. When he stood, the top of his bald head was barely visible. If King was attentive, he’d notice that something was growing out of it. 

“I done told you, Lorezno, if you can’t give me a report then you’re useless to me,” Lupe said, but his voice was different now. There was something dark in it, bordering on the line inhuman. “Tell me the name King. I can’t win if I can’t get the name!” 

Alfred groaned and reached towards King--no, he it was the sword he wanted. Saliva frothed and bubbled from the maw of the mask and dripped down its head, leaving wet bubbling trails that lead down to its throat. 

Alfred’s neck became a red geyser, and the blood it spewed sittched along the ground and wall, forming a crimson door. 

“You’ll regret breaking the order of things, King,” Lupe whispered. 

The chair he had been sitting in turned around completely, revealing what had been sitting in it. Nothing. The world was empty, and King’s exit had been written with his own hands. 

Once he went through the door he was back in that dank chamber, this time with only two masks and two more doors left to go. 

The chamber was massive. King would not recognize this place. When he died here, he’d only been allowed to see a faction of the torture complex. There were no lights here, and every step he made was coupled with a resounding echo. Spiritual pressures of all kinds bounced around, though the perceptive eye of King was like to notice that, when deciphered, they were all related to his. 

A spotlight flickered on and focused in on a girl bound to a chair. Her kimono was a bloodstained mess, with tears obviously created from a host of inhumane gadgets. Soudai Kitsune’s hair was askew, and when she looked up at King one of her eyes was sewn shut. 

“K-King . . .?” she whispered. A smile formed on her lips. “You sure took . . .your sweet fuckin’ time getting here . . .” 

Kitsune giggled at the end, though it was a weak and pitiful sound. 

When the shackles came unbound, King found that Kitsune still was not freed. She still sat as if something was forcing her into the chair. She took in a single pained breath and looked past King and into the darkness beyond. 

“He wants my name. That . . .that hollow. This entire place,” Kitsune nodded towards the blackness around the two, “is his illusion. He stole my power and is using it to try and force it from you. I kinda’ told him you knew who I really was, after all.” 

At that, Kitsune giggled. It wasn’t her brightest moment as those giggles turned to bloody coughs a moment later. But the amusement at forcing her partner to suffer traumatic illusions until he reached her was something she couldn’t ignore. 

Kitsune turned her one remaining red eye to King and licked her cracked lips. “I’ve been trying to control the illusions to bring you here. We only have about a minute until he finds out and comes to kill us both. I figure now is a good time to tell you that I lied to you about our bankai.”