Groaning, that is all that echoes from this pit of maggots who are unfit even to fly. They were poisoned by hope, the thought of escape was ripe in their minds, however, this hope was dashed against the stones. Maggots lay scattered across the ground with broken limbs, bloodied faces and equally bloodied bodies. One manages to pull himself off the ground, his left arm obviously broken due to how it hangs limp at his side. He starts walking towards the door where another man slumped against it on the ground. His back pressed against the cold steel, his body also bloodied and mouth agape as if exhaustion had forcefully pulled the air from his body. The Maggot of a prisoner moves ever closer towards this door, there is a hint of confidence in his steps, hope even. A few other Maggots stir and raise their heads to watch the brave soul take the plunge towards his attempted freedom. One man begins chuckling, the beatings may have made him delirious but soon a few others join him and the chuckling quickly devolves into cheering, granting strength and more courage to the one who wishes to be a Maggot no longer, to the one who wishes to Fly.
The Creepy One Stirs
The one attempting to fly inches ever so closer to the man who sits against the door. The closer he gets the more he readies himself for a confrontation. He would need to because the moment he steps outside he will have to combat more guards of Second Division. He just needs to take one of their weapons and he will be home free, no one will be able to stop him then! His foot touches the ground, rocks and dirt crunch beneath his feet, the index finger of the man on the door twitches. Backed by the cheers and cries of the other Maggots the potential Fly lets out a scream of his own as he takes another step to charge forward but his screaming is cut short instantly. The others halt their cheers as well, noticing that he stopped moving. The man who tried be a Fly was halted by a demented individual who took pleasure dismantling insects as a child. The man who was slumped against the door was the temporary Warden of the Maggots Nest, Ochitsuki Oda.
He was playing possum, poisoning them with hope as he did when he first arrived in the Nest. He “promised” them that if they could defeat him in combat he would let them go free, the offer was too good to pass up, unfortunately, they were out of their league. They were delivered everything short of killing blows and for most doing such a thing is foolish, not committing to a killing blow. But Ochitsuki excels, beyond all reason, in torturing individuals. He knows just how much damage to inflict to put an individual in a near death state, such as he has done to all the Maggots in this pitiful nest. Right now, he has halted the man that tried to charge him and the door by driving the index finger and thumb of both his hands into the flesh of the would-be Fly, wrapping the digits around each collar bone.
POP!!!
The sickening sound of bone snapping echoes into the silence of the Nest followed by a ghastly inhale of the victim who lets out a blood curdling cry of pain. The cry is cut short as Ochitsuki forces the wind from his lungs with a heavy straight kick to the gut, just below the diaphragm, instantly winding the man. This level of pain was too much for the poor soul as he is sent tumbling back, unconscious. This is all Ochitsuki has done since his Captain left, beat and torture the inmates of the Nest. The boy has not tired in the slightest and can continue fighting even longer, however, none of the Maggots wish to fly anymore. His empty dead eyes scan over the broken bodies of the now hopeless prisoners. They never even managed to harm him, the last warden must have been soft, easy to fool or beat. No, this was true because he let a prison break happen, yes, Ochitsuki remembers having to help apprehend the escaped criminals who were scattered into the Rukongai. He was still a boy when that happened, but it was a fun time for him. The smell and sound of a fearful prisoner was potent and wonderful as he and a squad of Onmitsukidō closed in on their prey. He turns and walks towards the door, knocking on it a few times, a coded knock of sorts considering the door opens right after the knock.
He steps outside, takes a deep breath of the fresh air, and exhales. The guards outside were stunned at his appearance, his Shihakusho top was missing and from head to toe he was covered in the blood of others. He then sits down on the ground between the two guards who suddenly feel the need to break the tense silence amongst them.
”N-no one has come by here… Uh… It also seems like Oyama and Himari have left the barracks…”
”Ah, the new girl went out on her own? Good to see that she has a drive to work. Or… Is she running away?”
”W-we don’t know sir… B-but both she and Hoshi-san went their separate ways after sparing.”
”Hmmm… I wonder how that turned out…”
He raises his left hand, his fingers held in a rather odd way until it is made obvious he is picturing himself grasping a ribcage with his fingers.
”Captain Mukuro probably won’t let me spar with them… Nah… He’ll have Yogen close by to… Stop me…”
His hand suddenly clutches into a fist causing the guards to flinch at the sudden action, it was as if they could visualize a ribcage collapsing and breaking in his grip. But what cause them to break out in a cold sweat was not his words nor his actions, it was that bizarre look of calm, demented, bliss etched on his face. He laughs a bit to himself and stands up, dusting his pants off.
”I know who to break now.”
That is all he says as he turns around and returns to the confines of the Nest of Maggots. He has a target in mind, a goal, something that may help his end goal of killing Captain Mukuro. For now though, who that target is remains a mystery as any one of the seated members of Second Division can be his next potential victim.
