Glass

Please do not proceed if you are looking for fluff. This is darkness with little light. I will say no more. There will however be moments of humor and everyday life. Taken from my previous account as W.M. Re-uploaded to provide a fresh start. Enjoy.

GLASS

By R. Raven

Prologue

Forget What You Know.

Forget what you know about Aizen, Gin, Tosen and the entire Soul Society, because it's irrelevant to what I am going to tell you. I knew Aizen for who and what he was from the moment I met him; Evil, narcissistic, cruel and above all else, manipulative. He can manipulate actions, the way people move and act around him, is all done according to him. The way he wants them to move is like a chess master and his board pieces. One might even call him a "Master of Man" or you could call him "God." In those terms, I call him "Devil." But no matter…I never knew the sweet Aizen, Captain Aizen, Lieutenant Aizen, I knew him as Aizen-Sama from the beginning. It wasn't until the end though, that I understand what it all meant. How knowing him could be so fatal and how my good eye and observation skills had sent me tumbling to the pits of hell.

It was the night before he was to leave Soul Society to continue his experiments. Urahara Kisuke had just been promoted to captain status, Gin was the size of a twelve year old and Tosen was…well Tosen and I was that tall, lean, and strange girl with startling dark blue eyes and wavy black hair. Gin would tease me about my hair, how the length of it would be the death of me; It reached the tops of my thighs when up in a ponytail and my five foot eight height made my hair look even longer.

I was called to join Aizen for a discussion in his private barracks that night. His eyes held mine the way they always would whenever he saw me for the first time in awhile, as if his eyes had somehow dehydrated from the lack of my appearance. He had stood up from his place by his desk and took my hand. Physical contact between us was not uncommon, he often reached out and stroked my hair or at that time, he had become interested in the space between my shoulder and neck. After I had seated myself across from him on his floor, he had reached out again towards me, to that spot on my neck. I was not frightened. He had been my leader for nearly two hundred years. His hand never moved. I don't remember it moving anyways. I didn't remember anything after that. Had it been a dream?

Couldn't have.

Because dreams were nice.

This was a Nightmare.