Summary: Grimmjow, a prince, hidden in the shadows and scorned by society. Ichigo Kurosaki, a budding rock star with a hard edge and a stern scowl. Playing in a club one day leads Ichigo to connect eyes with Grimmjow, and he is thrown into a spinning tale of romance, blood lust and a big bought of Stockholm Syndrome.

~!Be!~!Warned!~!~

The dark streets seem tangled together, a maze if one doesn't know their way around. Neon lights of all colors shone in the puddles, creating a shimmering rainbow as people splashed through them. Restaurants and tea shops sat here and there, people taking advantage of the shelter, as well as a moment of relaxation. Yet, those seemed empty compared to the club at the end of the street. Blood red letters reflected on the slick sidewalk, as well as the people awaiting in line, the words Hollow clearly spelled out. Lightning crackled in the sky, alighting the face of those outside, their bodies trembling slightly. The thunder roars loud, blending perfectly with the band rocking it out inside.

The interior is hardly seen, the lights all angled onto the band members. The dark blue walls, combined with pitch black floors, give the sense of walking in a void. Bodies grind against one another as they sway and jump, ears deafened from the booming of the speakers placed strategically around the room. While some dance, others lounge in crimson chairs or booths, fingers wrapped around drinks or another body.

The black oak bar is lined with people, all of different styles and forms. The lights rimming the edges alternate through the various neon colors; greens, blues, pinks, oranges, and yellows. Those lights gleam in the glasses, the liquid inside already of odd shades. The two bartenders serve opposite sides, their attire both the same. On one end is a blonde, his hair falling over the right side of his face. A long sleeved, ebony shirt sits under a metallic red vest, with the shirt tucked into black slacks, held by an equally colored belt. A tall, dark haired man stands at the other end, eyes never staying in one place as he moves about. His short, spiky hair stays away from the sharp angles of his face, two tattoos on them; a blue stripe over the bridge of his nose and across his left cheek, accompanied by a 69 tattoo. Unlike his partner, he the sleeves of the black shirt are ripped off, their tattered ends unseen from beneath the crimson vest.

Both boys serve the drinks fast; shaking, stirring, and shooting cubes into the crystal clear glasses, people at awe of their delivery. Yet, all heads turn as the band picks up another song, eyes locking onto the lead singer, a black and white guitar strapped over his shoulder.

Orange hair falls softly around the angles of his face, brown eyes alight with a fiery passion. Simple, small, hoop piercings sway from his ears as he bounces on his feet. A collared, navy shirt rests on his frame, the buttons half undone, the sheen of sweat evident on his slightly tan skin. Jeans cling to his legs, rips trailing down the side of them, while black tennis shoes rests comfortably on his feet. Fingers wrapping around the neck, pads pressing against the cords, he strums a cord.

Music boomed from the speakers in the corner of the room, lights flashing every array of colour as people melded together, bumping and grinding to the sinful beat. Up high, past the exclusive VIP area, and the security room stood a figure, leaning forward against the railing of a staircase; he gazed down upon the crowd, his eyes flashing red against the strobe that flickered on and off. Dressed impeccably in a white suit, his brown hair was pushed back as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

He sighed, shaking his head and turned, walking back to his office and clicking the door shut with a lock. "So.." he mumbled to his guest, eying up the black attire he wore. "How would you like to collect him?"

"Reaper! Reaper!" The crowds shouted, the band members names being yelled over the music. The lead singer smirked sinfully and turned back to gaze at his band members. Ripping chords behind his blazing yellow bass guitar rocked a pale, lean figure, with a blonde bowl cut and intriguing yellow eyes; his attire seemed plain. A simple white button down shirt was tucked into white skinny jeans that were ripped at the seams, followed by a pair of white Chucks, dirtied with the smudge from New York streets.

Screaming into a microphone to gather the crowd, shocking red hair was braided over his shoulder, a black bandanna with a skull symbol holding his hair back against his forehead. A graphic black tee with the white, bold words "Soul Reaper" were displayed across the shirt that hugged his body and showed his rippling abs, hidden behind his drums. A black vest covered his shoulders and fell against a rugged brown belt and torn and ripped black skinny jeans, tucked into a pair of combat boots.

The last member was sliding his fingers down the neck of his guitar, sweat licking at his glasses as his black hair fell into his eyes. He was adorning a black vest, covering a white button down shirt and black skinny jeans tucked into blue and yellow converses that matched his guitar, yellow with two blue lines running in a T pattern across the base.

He smirked, turning back to the mic as he belted out the last lyrics to their new song, "How much boundless pain and sorrow was I able to save you from? Oh...!

Show me that you'll touch my raised palms more strongly; Ever and never end.

I'll release, So far away!

With wings of engraving life, longing for the next world in which I'll be reborn.."he paused, turning his head away from the mic and tapping his foot to the beat as the guitar and drums took a short solo. "Don't cry.."he echoed.

"Don't cry, if I embraced you to the point that you seem to break, you'd tremble, Oh...! Show me that you'll softly touch my raised palms.." He ended, the band fading out.

"Thank you.." he smirked, winking at a few squealing girls who had been eying him all night. "See ya' tomorrow!" He ripped one last chord against his guitar before sliding it across his back and sauntering off stage, smirking at a couple girls.

As he placed his guitar in his case, he was thumped on the back. He hissed as he felt some of the rings adorning those fingers dig into his spine. "Ichiiii- Man! That was amazing! The crowds get better each day!" Renji laughed, wiping sweat from his brow with the edge of his t-shirt, revealing tanned abs.

Ichigo smirked, nodding. "Hell yeah. Sick jobs, guys." he nodded to Uryu and Shinji, who were smirking and packing up.

The group struts over to the bar, a space instantly clearing for them in respect and adoration. Shinji takes a seat, the pendant earrings dangling slightly, while the rest remain stationary; hoops, studs, and more litter both of the blonde's ears, not leaving a spot untouched. Uryu takes a seat beside him, taking his glasses off to wipe them clean, his silver nose ring, resembling one a cow might have, gleaming in the light coming off the bar. Renji plops down, laughing, palm thudding the counter as a drink is slung into his reach, courtesy of the dark haired bartender, Hisagi. The liquid slips over his lips and the piercing adorning his lip. He slams the glass down, empty, and continues to laugh, signaling for another drink, the piercing on his eyebrow apparent as he tilts his head.

Ichigo sits down, graceful compared to how the redhead had. He lets the corner of his lips lift as Hisagi stands in front of them, already knowing what they want. The cool glass touches his fingertips, a shiver running up his spine. Izuru, the blonde bartender, grinned at the quartet, "You guys did great tonight."

Renji smirked, "You know it!" He smacked Uryu on the back, causing him to choke on his drink slightly. "Great job on those chords, man!" He hollered over the music as lights flashed against the black of his clothes.

Uryu shrugged in acknowledgement, absently playing with the straw in his drink as he listened Shinji rant about his bass needing to be tuned frequently.

Ichigo laughed softly, running a hand through his hair and unbuttoning his shirt slightly to cool down, revealing a muscled, tanned chest.

His shoulders tensed as he felt eyes watching him. He turned his head slightly, letting his eyes roam around, looking for the gaze attached to him. He saw no one.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead, sighing at the cool metal of his rings against his forehead. "Hey guys," he hollered. "I'm gunna' head home, I'm not in the greatest mood for drinks." They all hollered their complaints before they all knocked back the rest of their drinks.

He stood, swerving his way through the gyrating bodies to get to the back entrance door that he kicked open, grabbing his guitar and stringing the case behind his back as a red bricked wall was revealed, Ichigo quickly walking into the alleyway. Those eyes.. those eyes still followed.

Ichigo sighed, trying his best to keep his head on straight. He kept his eyes focused on getting home, not the fact that he was getting paranoid. The rain fell down around him, making his already damp hair stick to the sides of his face.

Lightning crackled in the sky, lighting his way for just a split second. The goosebumps on his skin never left, but he blamed it on the chill of the air and the adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins, which was now diminished.

Water splashed up around him, the bottoms of his pants soaked. He knew he should have brought an umbrella or at least try to hail a cab, but he didn't live that far, so he believed that the walk wouldn't hurt. Although the stare piercing through him couldn't be shaken away as he turned another corner, the back alleys much quicker than the normal streets.

As Ichigo ran up the stairs to his apartment, his heart raced in his ears. Faster and faster his feet pounded against the dark black steps, his deep crimson door quickly coming into view. Ichigo smash against his, shaking the door handle before quickly looking around and reaching into his pocket, jamming the key into the lock and rushing into his apartment. He slammed the door shut, and leaned back against it, quickly locking it from behind. Those eyes. Those eyes had followed him, then he thought he heard footsteps, and his name being called.

'No! No!' He shook his head, his dark orange hair falling into his eyes as he moved to the kitchen to grab some water. No, he was just paranoid, the music from the club was too loud. Yeah. Yeah. That was it.

Silence, it was the thing causes all the damage. Ichigo hurried to the cabinet, grabbing a glass, and letting the door slam back shut. He turned the water on, the liquid pounding against the silver sink. With the glass full, Ichigo downs it. A flick of the wrist and the faucet is off, glass clanging as it tumbles into the sink. Ichigo tries to regulate his breathing, slowly his palpitating heart. His fingers grip the material dangle over his chest and he stares into the darkness of the next room.

Paranoia...couldn't be worse when one lives alone. As he strode out of the kitchen, he flicked on every light, eyes darting into every crook and crevice of the vicinity. Frightened would be a word a child would use to describe their how they felt after a nightmare, no that didn't fit Ichigo at all. Now, scared shitless was the one Renji would use, and that fit him perfectly.

The lights blazed all around him and it helped soothe his frantic nerves, if only a little. But that was all he needed. Ichigo ran a hand through his hair, laughing at himself for being so stupid, while trying not to think about those eyes that seemed to follow his every move.

'Iccchiiiggoooo.' A voice spoke softly, calling, beckoning him to the shadows of his room. 'Iccchiiggoo.'

He froze, his blood turning cold. He turned, his breath leaving in short gasps as his body shook with blood-curdling fear. In the shadows.. in the corner of his room.. eyes.. eyes of red..

Ichigo took a step back as those eyes stood out from the dark, tilting ever-so slightly like the tilt of a head.

He took another step back and turned, sprinting for the bathroom and slamming the door shut, locking it with hands that shook violently.

Palms pressed firmly against the cold tile, his body molded against the door as he slides down it, flicking the light on as he goes. His teeth grit together, whole body shaking as he tries to breath steadily. Ichigo couldn't be more cold, his body felt like ice, as if all warmth was left with the creepy voice.

But he didn't want to close his eyes. No. The second he tries, they fly back open, his mind recalling those haunting crimson eyes. Cursing himself under his breath, he lightly hit his head against back against the door. He was brave, not some weakling that ran from things, no he should fight...but the only thing was, he didn't know what he would be fighting if he did.

A hum crossed with a moan reaches his ears, the sound coming from the other side. He looks down, noticing that the sheen of light that once peeked from under the door, is now black with shadows. 'Shit...' was all he could think.

'Ichigoooo..' The voice whispered, a thud resounding against the door and shaking through Ichigo's bones. 'Ichiggooooo.. Come out and plaayy..' Another thud, and another, getting lower and lower on the door till it resounded against Ichigo's lower back.

His body was frozen to the spot, unable to move or blink, breath hitched in his throat. Ichigo heard only a slight silence, grateful that the voice had stopped, if only for a moment.

Yet, just as he was able to breath, a scream caught in his throat, mouth opening but nothing coming out. His body squirmed, sliding across the floor as he stared at the door. He wanted to breath, to find a way out of his mess. But, those digits curled around the bottom of the door kept him in his place, elegant fingers gripping the wood.

"Holy shit-!" He moved backwards, kicking at the floor and smacking into his tub, his heart pounding against his chest as he felt like he was drowning; not being able to catch his breath.

The fingers curled again, digging into the door, the digits digging into the door. He shook violently, curling up and gripping his knees, breathing slowly.

The nails drag down the door, leaving light marks, the noise itself forcing Ichigo to throw his hands up over his ears. He put his forehead against his knees, eyes locked onto the legs of his pants. If he didn't see it, he'd live. If he didn't hear it, he'd live. All he had to do now, was to not let it in.

His legs shook, bouncing up and down rapidly, his head shooting up, eyes widening. The knob twisted, jiggled, and attempted to turn, struggling to get free from the lock. 'At least the fingers are gone...' he thinks, brain trying to be somewhat positive.

The voice chuckled, a haunting sound. "Just shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he yelled at the door, trying to push himself further and further away from it.

His heart pounded in his ears once more, and black covered his vision. The last thing he saw was blue, the oddest shade of blue before he fainted, his head cracking against the tile of his bathroom floor.

~!Thosewhoyouseek..arejustaroundthecorner..withtheirbloodredeyes!~

Drop a review? We'd love it if ya' did! :heart:

~B~E~W~A~R~E~

Hello~! It's AMLF~! And PyroAhlex~! Whose ready to shit their pants?.. Wasn't that eloquent. Well, actually.. when we wrote this, we gave ourselves nightmares..

So~! Sang Chateua! Blood Castle! This story, I.. don't really remember how I came up with it, but when I told Leah, we instantly decided that it would be dark and seductive; so let's hope we portrayed that slightly. ^^'

We'll have two more chapters up tonight, and Leah is replying to start the third! Here we go! Wanna' add anything Lea-bear? ([snickers] Go read It has been.. Wonderful, you'll see where I came up with it.)

Hope people realized that I hate Kairi.. and Orihime.. Anyway! Any words Leah?

Read...with the lights on...My only advice to you all. -cough- Anyways~ Enjoy.