The Soul Cry

by Spunky0ne

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(For Foxie the Nerd, who requested a Bya/Ichigo story where Ichigo is the one impregnated and where he is abducted. Be careful what you ask for. This one will be diabolical! Set in Soul Society after the quincy war, in a world that doesn't remember the former Soul Society, this one will pull at the heartstrings with angst, so be prepared, it is not for the faint of heart! Some non-con and mpreg.)

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Chapter 1: Distant Lights

In a corridor so black that even the wardens walked without sight, echoing footsteps sounded, in a slow, unhurried cadence. Despite the absence of light, the man taking them moved with perfect confidence, his reiatsu swelling inside him and helping him sense markers that were not seen, but felt as one passed them. He was well acquainted now with the hidden prison...both its layout and its necessity.

The ones locked in this place can never be allowed to escape.

Never.

He reached the end of the corridor and stepped onto a lift, where he touched a reiatsu button indicating the very lowest level. As he descended, he felt the presence of the deep guardians, the ungodly ones summoned to ensure that no one who entered the prison without permission would reach the incarcerated prisoners, and if anyone tried, they would never leave alive.

It is a sin that these offenders must be kept this way, but it is the only hope we have of controlling our fate. Yes, fate is the thing that brought them here. They sought to defy it, and fate has exacted its toll on them. They will forever remain here in darkness...until their eyes will forget the light and their minds will become empty. All brought here have my pity...but not any mercy.

They do not deserve mercy.

The man's footsteps slowed even more as he entered the final corridor and walked to the end, where a large iron door blocked his path. He loosed a word in demon tongue that made the lock click loudly as it released, then he stepped through, shivering slightly at the close, deadly feel of the chamber's sleeping guardian.

We have to keep them in sleep, and even in sleep, they are so very deadly. They have to be to exert control over sinners like these.

Especially this one.

He crossed the room to where a man laid on an icy rock surface, his reiatsu carefully trapped within his slender body and that body wrapped from head to toe in heavy bands that shunned the passage of all but a trace of reiatsu from inside to outside.

Though reiatsu must be able to pass the other direction to allow for the soul's punishments. And this tortured soul has earned every burning shaft of pain. For how can you ever atone...killing a god...our god...our king? There is no worse sin.

He paused in front of the damned one, sensing that he was lucid and finishing a cycle of horrific waking nightmares. Once the cycle ended and the man's reiatsu settled enough to allow communication, he sensed the control panel at the end of the bed and found the button to loose a soothing flow of calming agent.

"Sinner, listen carefully," he told the restrained man, "You are new to the prison, so I will instruct you how to communicate. Your body is encased in reiatsu shunning material that will only allow the passage of reiatsu that is required for communication. You will not be able to move your mouth to speak, but can control your reiatsu to make me hear your words in my head. Concentrate so that your words are clear, or I will not be able to understand you. Try now."

A long silence followed, but it was, the man thought, only natural. The prisoner had likely never had to speak using reiatsu before, and he was also not skilled, in any case, at controlling its release. As was the case with most transcendent types, this one had tremendous power but did not yet possess much ability to refine its flow properly. Thus, it might take many tries to speak.

The tormented man in the bonds managed a low, gurgling groan, then what seemed a blood curdling scream.

"I understand," he told the prisoner, "you have sinned so badly that you live in constant pain and devastating fear. All light has been purged from your existence. Your darkness has consumed you. The weight upon your soul is heart shattering, I know. But this is what you have earned. It is the price of slaying our god, sinner."

"Wh-which one?"

A smile crawled onto the jailor's face, one that the prisoner felt without being able to see.

"That's right," he said quietly, "you killed both of them, didn't you? But...to live in doubt as to which slaying you are being punished for is part of your sentence."

"Bastard! Let me go!"

"You shouldn't get so riled, sinner. You no longer eat, so your unbearable hunger will only increase. You will only become more uncomfortable. But...take heart, sinner. In time, your mind will unravel. Yes, given time, you will slowly forget that light existed, that there ever was a world where the air wasn't always frigid and all of the surfaces made of stone. You will forget that anything exists but the coming and going of pain and fear. Undone, you will forever scream mindlessly, only reminded by your punishers that you are a sinner and that the torment is small in comparison to your crimes. Fighting your bonds is useless. Pleading is pointless. You exist now only to do penance."

"Why are you doing this? Who are you? Where are we? What is this place?" the prisoner demanded, his reiatsu hissing with desperation beneath the thick bonds.

"Tch, tch, you are not allowed such things, lest you should have a foothold to hang onto your mind. You and the hell you lie in are nameless, sinner."

"Are you nameless too?" the prisoner asked, his reiatsu quivering uncertainly.

"To you? Yes," the jailor answered, "You will never refer to me directly. just speak your words."

"You won't tell me your name?" the prisoner inquired, anger causing a dangerous flickering under the heavy straps, "Then I'll give you one...how about spineless asshole? Are you really so afraid of me that you have to do all of this?"

The jailor's lips curled wickedly.

"You are not here because we fear you," he answered, "You are here to atone for your sins. And yours are so great that you will never leave here...not even in death. You will be surrounded in misery and unable to escape into the free worlds or into death."

"Then, this isn't in any of the worlds," the prisoner reasoned, "Is that it? Are we in one of those pocket dimensions then?"

The jailor's teeth clenched hatefully for a moment and he refrained from speaking until the flash of righteous anger diminished.

"You are where you belong, sinner," he answered finally, "Now that you understand what is happening to you, I will not come to you again. No one will. Your life is now set in the hands of the demon wardens."

The jailor turned and started to walk away.

"Wait!" the prisoner called, "Where are you going?"

The jailor's footsteps tapped relentlessly on the stone floor as he walked away.

"Goodbye sinner."

"No! Stop! Come back here you son of a bitch! You can't leave me here! I haven't done anything wrong. I was only trying to save my friends!"

The fading footsteps stopped for a moment.

"You have no life beyond this, no purpose beyond pain, no friends or family but the demons around you. You...have no name."

The prisoner loosed a deafening howl as the jailor's footsteps began to sound again.

"I have a name! I'm Kurosaki Ichigo! I'm Kurosaki Ichigo! I'm KUROSAKI ICHIGO!"

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"IM KUROSAKI ICHIGO!" a disembodied voice screamed inside the grey eyed ronin's sleeping mind.

He sat up suddenly in his bed and instantly regretted it. Splinters of pain lanced through his abused body and seemed to explode behind his eyes. He covered his lovely, but smudged and bruised face, taking hissing breaths and praying silently that he was alone in the bed.

The bed moved.

Damn...

"You awake finally?" asked a rough, sneering voice.

An arm wrapped around the ronin's waist and he turned his head away to avoid the leering eyes of the man who held him. Hard, thick fingers sank into the tumbled lengths of raven-colored hair, and his head was yanked back, then his pale, dirty throat attacked with vicious, biting kisses and harsh suction. The arm that held him moved and the other man's fingers slid down over his slim belly and down between his stiff, parted thighs to prepare him.

"You ready for another, pretty ronin?" the man asked mockingly, "I can't seem to get enough of you. Good thing I paid for the night, eh?"

The powerful kido that restrained the ronin's voice turned out to be a blessing, considering the beating he would have taken for speaking even a hint of what he was thinking.

This man is a vile animal...not even human, the ronin mused as he was pushed down onto his belly and entered roughly from behind.

He was accustomed to cruelty, so he tuned out the man's voice, attending only to any orders he made to move faster or to change the type of stimulation or the angle of his hips. After several minutes of strenuous exertion, the man atop his back grunted and shuddered, then grabbed the ronin's hips, digging in with sharp fingernails as he loosed his burning release. He held the ronin down, burying his face in the man's tangled hair and sighing contentedly.

"You know," he said more softly, now that his lust had been sufficiently sated, "I can almost believe the stories they tell about you ronin being like royalty once. Even beat up and filthy like you are, there's something in your eyes. I guess that's why you make the best whores, isn't it?"

He knows better than to let himself be heard speaking of that time with any but the ronin, themselves. No one would believe us if we did accuse anyone, so sullied is our reputation. I do wish sometimes I knew why. I don't even know what master I may have served before, and I know nothing of his downfall. And as much as I have listened carefully and tried to learn more, there is no sign of that old world and no one really remembers it.

What happened?

I would die to know.

But we ronin have been sentenced to a lifetime of servitude. And this...selling myself to benefit the only master who will employ me, is the only way to make a living. But it's strange. I don't know why the ronin still need to eat when we have no powers. The citizens don't have to eat. Why do we?

I have so many questions, and none will ever be answered.

The ronin swallowed hard and sat up with the man as he reached for his clothes and climbed out of the bed. He watched the man pull on his pants and shirt, then held still as he returned and planted a sloppy kiss on the prostitute's frowning mouth.

"I'll come back," he promised, "You're Ronin 1, right?"

The ronin nodded.

The man gave him a lopsided smile.

"You know, I heard that the lower your number, the higher in status you were...in the old world. You must have been something special."

All I am now is the recipient of their scorn and a receptacle for their seed. Many like me have ended their lives in complete hopelessness. I admit that it has crossed my mind. But...

He heard again the voice in his mind that screamed the one thing he would never have.

That voice screams a name, and for some reason, when I hear this name, my heart pounds as though it's coming back to life. I feel something so close and familiar. I don't know what it is, but...

His thoughts scattered as his client exited the room, pausing to hand a stack of bills to the owner of the house.

"He was good, Ozuru," the man complimented him, "I gave some extra for the added wear and tear on him. I'll be back in a few days."

"I will make sure he has a bath before you arrive," the proprietor promised, looking pleased.

He watched as the man left, then approached the bed and glared down at the ronin approvingly. He hesitated a moment, then reached out. The ronin flinched and leaned away, earning a curse and a slap on the face.

"Behave yourself, now," he growled, "I was only returning your voice as a reward for better behavior. You want me to not do that?"

The ronin lowered his eyes and shook his head briefly.

"Okay then."

The ronin sighed in relief as the slight feeling of constriction around his throat eased.

"Don't defy me like before and make the johns happy and I won't have to punish you like that, is that too much to ask?"

The ronin gave his head a little shake.

"Go on then and wash up. You can have a couple of hours off to spend in town."

The ronin started to rise, then felt himself yanked back hard against his master's muscular chest.

"No fucking around," he said warningly, "I'll know if you are. Be back in two hours. You have more clients, single throws, all afternoon. You're pretty popular. I guess they like you because of the rumors about you."

The ronin said nothing, but waited until his master let him go, then he stumbled out of the guest room and back to the tiny, cramped room he shared with the others. Two men sat on mats on the floor, one that looked like him, but had blue eyes and one with golden hair and a decidedly gloomy looking expression.

"Are you all right?" the blue eyed ronin asked, "Can you speak now?"

"Yes," he answered solemnly, "and he forgave me enough that I have two hours of free time. What are your commitments?"

The golden-haired ronin shook his head unhappily.

"I will have company starting in a half hour. Sorry, One."

It is a small comfort to be able to at least refer to our numbers in private, as we are not allowed names...

"What about you, Twenty-one?"

The blue-eyed ronin smiled.

"I am free for the afternoon. I can go with you, if you want."

"Very well," One answered, "We had best leave before the master changes his mind."

"Be careful," the golden-haired man warned them, "You were almost caught last time, One. If the master knew what you were doing, he would probably break your hands, maybe even your leg, if he was mad enough."

"Do not worry, One-Twelve," One said calmly, "I know he will wake soon. They say he knows more than we are supposed to. I will be there when he wakes. I will ask him!"

The golden-haired ronin sighed doubtfully and laid down on his mat. His two comrades left the room and entered the bathroom, where they disrobed and quickly used the icy shower, scrubbing off the filth and foul scent of their un-chosen profession. They dressed with equal haste, then slipped out the back door of the brothel and made their way through a maze of alley-ways.

"Have you been seeing him?" One asked his younger counterpart, "That striped citizen with the very red hair?"

Twenty-One blushed and nodded.

"We're being careful about it. We've played together, but we haven't had sex yet. He likes you, One."

"Shh!" the elder ronin hissed softly, "Don't call me anything out here! Someone will hear you."

"Sorry," Twenty-one apologized, "but it's stupid and cruel, not letting us use any way of referring to each other. Isn't it natural to want to be called something?"

"Of course," the grey-eyed ronin agreed, "but we live in a world where that just isn't possible. You know that."

"Yes, but couldn't we escape into the deadlands? There are secrets there. You know there are!"

"Yes, and there are death squads who will execute us on sight if we are found there. They don't want us to remember."

"And have you asked yourself why not?" Twenty-One asked stridently, "We can't just go on this way. We're just being used up by Ozuru's clients."

"Stop it! Don't use his name here! You remember what happened last time!"

"I know, but aren't you tired of all of this? Of horrid, filthy men putting their hands all over you and taking what they want from you. And we don't get to keep any of the money we make for him! We are never going to get out of here if we don't do something!"

"We are doing something."

"Well, hello beautiful!" a deep, male voice said smoothly.

The blue-eyed ronin broke into a wide smile.

"Renji!" he laughed, rushing into the redhead's arms and kissing him enthusiastically.

His grey-eyed companion angled himself to hide the two from anyone who might walk by. The two exchanged deep, hard kisses for several moment, then broke free of each other.

"Are you two going where I think you're going?" Renji asked, meeting One's guarded eyes questioningly, "I can escort you."

"You know that only..."

"I got a promotion," Renji said, smiling and turning to show off his guard's badge.

One's breath caught for a moment as his mind spun into a flash of something that felt like memory.

"Welcome to the sixth division, Renji," he greeted the red-haired man, handing him the corresponding fukutaichou's arm band, "I am sure you will work hard to add to our squad's good reputation."

"Thank you..."

A look of torment passed over One's face and he doubled over for a moment.

"Hey," Renji said, wrapping an arm around him and helping him straighten, "are you all right, One?"

"Let go of me!" One snapped angrily, "And don't use my number in public! You won't pay a price yourself, but you'll get me punished, just as you got him punished last week."

Renji gave him a surprised look.

"You promised you wouldn't tell him!" the blue-eyed ronin objected.

"Tell me what?" Renji insisted, "I got you punished?"

"It was nothing," Twenty-one insisted, "He just made me stay up all night cleaning and confined me to my room for a day. It's fine."

"Well, it won't be fine if you are caught breaking the rules again," One complained, "and if you are caught while with me, I will be punished too."

"Look, why don't you let me buy him?" Renji asked, "I'm a guard now. I can own a ronin. I'd buy you also, One, but Ozuru won't sell you. He'll want a fortune for Twenty-one already because his number's pretty low."

The elder ronin met the younger's eyes and Twenty-one shook his head firmly.

"I won't leave him," he said stiffly.

"But you wouldn't have to keep sleeping with every guy willing to plunk down money for you," Renji persisted, "I know you want to get out of that place."

"Renji is right," One added, glancing at the redhead gratefully, "You don't want to stay in this life if you have another choice. You should let Renji buy you. You will have a home and you won't suffer for want of proper food. Please, don't stay, just because of me."

"Just stop, both of you. I'm not leaving One, and that's final. I do love you, Renji, but I..."

Twenty-one halted mid-sentence, his face going white as another guard entered the alley and approached them.

"Renji," the other guard greeted the redhead.

"Hi Shuuhei," Renji answered, "how's it going?"

"It's fine," Shuuhei answered, studying the two ronin, "but I think you need to be careful. I heard that ronin calling you and this other by name. I will overlook it because we're friends, but you should be more careful, all of you."

"S-sorry," Twenty-one said, his head bowing penitently, "I thank you for your lenience."

"And I do as well," One added.

"It's okay," Shuuhei said, looking back at them with a sympathetic expression, "Just don't do it again."

"We won't," the younger ronin promised.

The three watched as Shuuhei left, then One turned to the younger ronin and took his hand.

"I am begging you, please let Renji buy you. I promise you, I will be all right. I know how to stay out of trouble, and as soon as the white-haired ronin is able to speak, I will have the answers I need to understand who we are and what happened so that we ended up like this."

Renji sighed and looked back at him doubtfully.

"Are you sure he's gonna wake up? And even if he does, do youreally think he'll remember anything useful?"

"He said something in his sleep last time," Byakuya informed Renji, making his eyes widen, "He said a name. And, for some reason, it sounded familiar. I didn't know why at the time, but I had a dream in which someone screamed the same name."

"What was the name?" Renji asked curiously.

One took a steadying breath.

"Kurosaki Ichigo."