morning after dead

Winter had not noticed the girl, and he did not know how. That was the final straw that caused his survival instincts to kick in. The moment she said her name though he was on her. He grabbed her outstretched arm, yanked her forward, and then slammed her into the bed with his free arm. He covered her mouth with left and and mounted on top of her stomach. There was an odd pain coming from his right wrist, but he ignored it. 

“What are you?” Winter asked, his voice cold. “And what are these demons that haunt me? If I lift my hand, don’t scream either. I don’t want to kill you, but you wouldn’t be the first or the last.” 

For a moment, Winter wondered if he had been mistaken. Risa’s innocent reaction was as honest as it could get, and a quick look at her hands told him that they didn’t have the callouses needed to wield a sword. But in a world of demons and magic, logic was thrown out the window. Winter’s eye twitched as he remembered his entire unit being wiped out by the monster not so different than the one that this little girl killed in a single stroke. 

“If you’re lying to me and this is poison, know I can kill you before it takes effect.” Winter covered her mouth again and used his other hand, letting go of her wrist, to get the container off of her belt. He held it into the light and narrowed his eyes, shook it and held it to his ear, and then finally popped it open and poured it on the bed beside Risa’s head. 

To take some mysterious drug was a folly. Winter knew better. If it hadn’t been for the last twenty-four hours being so damned contradictory to how he normally was, he would have stopped himself from swallowing the pill. 

The ache in Winter’s wrist was gone. The nausea in his stomach had faded away. Blinking his eyes, he looked around the room wildly, wondering why he was standing up and why he was staring at his half-naked body straddling the witch who had brought him to this hospital. 

“What in the . . .,” Winter stopped himself when he looked down. Black robes, japanese from the look of it, replaced the thin hospital gown he had been wearing moments earlier. On his right hip was his sword, sheathed and slid into a thick white sash. “Risa, what did you--” 

“What’s going on in here?!” The doctor yelled. 

Winter’s eyes snapped up when the door was flung open. The balding man looked at Risa wildly and rushed over to her. “What’s going on in here? What are you doing with my patient? Nurse!” 

More people rushed in, pulling Risa away from Winter’s lifeless body. One checked his pulse and went pale. “He’s . . .he’s dead, doctor!” 

“What do mean dead, I’m right here!” Winter screamed. When he was ignored he reached out to grab the nurse’s shoulder. She turned and looked at him, eyes wide with confusion. She’s not looking at me, but through me. 

In the blink of an eye, Winter had grabbed Risa by the throat again and forced her on the wall. Anger had poisoned his eyes, and his grip was noticeably tighter now. “What the fuck did you do to me, and how do I reverse it?!” 

Winter was conflicted. He let go of Risa and sharply inhaled. Had it not been for his training as a green beret, he would have screamed out of frustration. Instead he walked over to the bed, sat on it, and let his breath out in a sigh heavy with years of conflict. 

Is this what I’ve become? Winter looked to Risa and then back to the ground. She’s just a kid. She probably is as confused by all as I am. Only difference is . . . 

“Tell me everything, and don’t leave anything out,” he finally said, after minutes of sitting there in silence. 

“Too many to ask,” Winter replied. 

He drew his sword in one fluid motion. It slid from the scabbard easily enough, which was good. That meant if he was ever attacked in this form he could defend himself and not worrying about the katana getting stuck. With one swipe through the air, which caused the boy to pale, Winter realized that it was unreasonably light. Or maybe I’m just stronger than normal, he mused. After all, the speed in which he had pinned Risa onto the wall was greater than that of any normal human. 

“Reap souls, eh?” Winter repeated. He tapped the hilt of this zanpakutou on the boy’s forehead and watched as a blue light filled the room. When it finally petered out, a black butterfly rose from the ground and phased through the window. 

Winter easily absorbed what he had been told. Had it not been for him seeing spirits and demons in his journey across the world things would have been different. But he had seen too much to not accept what Risa said. 

Sheathing his sword, Winter looked at his body. His face was cold and untelling of what he thought. “What is that possessing me?”