Princess's Torment

"Abyss of Despair"

Azayaka was in the very back of her chambers, all of the doors leading to her bedroom locked and barricaded. She knew that wouldn't help if anyone wanted to come in, especially the very thing she wanted to keep out. But she had done it anyway. The curtains drawn, after she was locked in and alone, she started to destroy her room.

Nothing was safe from her wrath. Chairs, tables and dressers were tipped over. The bedding was ripped and torn, pulled off of the mattress. Glass shattered on the floor like jagged diamonds. The bathroom door had been stripped off its frame. Covering every visible inch of her room was Vacanze's, Kita's and Ichimaru's faces. There were other faces too; the faces of her fake parents and all the people in Rukongai who had tried to do her wrong (and succeeded). She screamed and roared, throwing things and flipping things over. She couldn't feel anyone surrounding her area of the tower and she didn't blame them. She was sure she sounded like a monster with as loud as she screamed.

When her room was a complete disaster and nothing was recognizable, she roared again, not feeling even an ounce of the rage within her subsiding. Even worse, she felt the dark power of her hollow gradually rising within her. She looked over to one of the broken drawers from her nightstand. She moved over to it and picked it up, rummaging through its contents until she found what she was looking for: one of her daggers. She sat on the ruined bed and pulled her cloak off, throwing it aside. She kicked off her heels and pulled off her skirt, leaving herself in her corset top and panties. She took the tip of the dagger and dug it into the skin of one of her arms, dragging it up and down until her skin was marred with cuts and stained with blood. Still nothing. She disfigured the other arm, crying out in pain. Again, nothing. She let out a quiet sob as she felt the hollow inside her starting to rumble. She pressed he blade to any patch of bare skin she could reach, digging deep until the pain was unbearable. Eventually, she could handle no more and she dropped he dagger. She looked at her ruined flesh and realized the wounds were not healing.

Her hollow wasn't letting her regenerate. She tried to heal them with kido, but her hands shook and her focus was completely gone.

You think I'm going to let you take advantage of my powers that I so generously let you use by cutting yourself like a piece of meat? Arrogant wench! Bleed to death for all I care!

Azayaka felt her chest start to rise and fall rapidly in panic. Another involuntary sob left her throat.

"Stop..." she said, barely above a whisper. There was no response. "Please, just stop. Please. I'm sick of this." Nothing. She sobbed again, this time something she didn't expect flowing down her face. She raised her hands to her face, pulling them away and looking down. Tears mixed with blood stained her fingers. The sight of it only made her sob harder. "What do you want from me!!!!?" She screamed at the top of her lungs.

I'm a hollow. What else? I want your soul. I feed off of your despair, your anger, and all of your negative emotions. You've let yourself become a wretch over Septima and the seraph. You are not strong enough to be my vessel. You're weak and unworthy of my power! So I will devour your soul and take your body for myself!!

She felt it crawling inside her, reaching further into he chest than it had ever made it before. She cried out in pain, unable to breathe as she felt her chest tighten and her vision start to fade, blackening around the edges. She clutched her chest, leaning over, her other hand bracing herself on the bed. Her arm shook, unable to support her weight from the loss of blood. The room darkened and spun in her vision. She felt weak, yet at the same time like a tremendous power was building up within her. It pained her to try and fight it. She was too...

Weak. She was weak. Her blood ties to Lord Aizen were meaningless. She didn't have an eighth of the strength he had. Even the seraph was stronger than she was. She was nothing.

She could no longer support herself as she leaned on the bed; she rolled off and onto the floor, too weak to even move. She didn't even cry for help as her vision faded even further. She was way beyond help. There was no one around to hear her anyway. And if there was... they probably didn't care.