A/N: This story was written for the Halloween event on Bleach Asylum's UlquiHime fan club. The home that Orihime is moving into is a home I lived in for three years. Pictures of this story's locations can be found on my profile!

Warnings: This is my futile attempt at a horror story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.

Moratorium

By: Princess Kitty1

Wales Street

Orihime Inoue, age seventeen, was not superstitious. In fact, if there was one thing she could truly say she was afraid of, it was an alien invasion. Those things are out there, you know, she would insist to the small group of friends she'd had at her old school in El Paso, Texas. It's only a matter of time before they best our intelligence and overrun the planet with their slimy tentacles and blood-sucking war machines! Needless to say, when she had watched War of the Worlds in theaters, she had fainted right in the middle of the film.

It was a sunny morning in Killeen, Texas when her older brother Sora, a soldier in the United States Armed Forces for several years, stopped his small car on the curb of a one-story house. "I guess this is it," he declared with somewhat of a proud swell in his chest. He had been caring for Orihime ever since she was small, having taken her out of their abusive home situation the moment he came back from basic. It had been a much better life for her, though moving from place to place was always hard. He knew that she hated saying goodbye to her friends, her established routine. But her experience in handling people had made her well-liked and extremely approachable. He had no doubt that she would fit in here, too.

Orihime, sitting in the passenger seat beside him, tucked a strand of reddish brown hair behind her ear and glanced out the window. It was a pleasant little house, she thought. There was a driveway sheltered by a tin-looking roof, a few scraggly shrubs lining the front of the structure, which was brick on the right side, wood on the left. A concrete walkway with a rusted rail led the way to the front door, though she had a feeling the interior would be easier to access through the second entrance in the driveway. In the front yard grew an enormous tree with a thick trunk and branches that jutted out over the street. Not the prettiest house in the world, but it had character. Orihime smiled, liking it immediately.

"Unfortunately the moving company won't be here with our things until tomorrow, but we can go out to Ft. Hood and get some rental furniture later." Sora looked at his younger sister. "What do you think?"

"I think I want to climb that tree," Orihime said decisively, her eyes already scanning for a notch or branch on which her foot could find purchase. Truthfully, she always felt a degree of anxiety when starting over fresh; who wouldn't? There was a new school to attend, credits to transfer, new people to befriend, classes to catch up on, hallways and streets to memorize… and of course, trying to decide where all her furniture was going to go in her new bedroom. "Let's explore!" she said, yanking off the seatbelt and throwing open the car door. The one-story house, Sora had explained earlier, was a little big for them with four bedrooms and two bathrooms, but it was the only thing they had been able to give him. Ft. Hood was currently choked with soldiers who had just returned from overseas, and with the new housing areas having yet to be completed, there were bound to be problems. Killeen was one of those cities that would become a ghost town without military presence.

And so Sora had been offered a place in Pershing Park, a housing area that was separate – but not all that far – from the main base. With its grassy fields, old oak trees and the large forest that divided it from Venable Village, another housing area within walking distance, the division had enchanted Orihime almost instantly. The fall sunlight made the trees glitter gold, and the pale blue sky above could have deceived her into thinking that she was in a coastal town rather than the middle of the Texas hill country, the very tip of tornado alley.

Orihime was afraid of tornados, too, but while the city had a high instance of watches and warnings, it was very rarely that one actually touched down. As she waited for Sora to open the driveway door, she made a mental note to check out the safe rooms. "There we go!" he said as the lock clicked and the heavy door swung into the house.

Well, they were in the kitchen now. The counter and appliances stood on their left, a window above the counter looking out into the front yard. There were two doorways that led into a spacious living and dining area, and beyond that was a door that opened into the backyard, which looked fairly big from where Orihime stood. No carpet anywhere in the house, either; a simple white tile floor covered the entire surface, cracked and raised in places. She wandered through the kitchen, passing the main entrance as she walked into the hallway. A door on the left, three on the right, and one up ahead. Which would she choose?

Instinct seemed to draw her to the door on the left. She pushed it open, coming across the first of four bedrooms. But she knew without a doubt that this would be the one she chose: the sunlight streamed in through a window directly across from the door, flooding the room in a beautiful glow. How delightful! Such a setting would be perfect for inspiring her creativity while she was sewing. She took in a deep breath. Despite the air being stale from the scrub-down the place had received before allowing anyone to move in, she could tell that this had previously been a boy's room. Girls would have left more tiny holes in the off-white walls from posters and calendars.

She could hear Sora moving back and forth between car and kitchen, unloading what little they had brought along, as she left her new room behind and explored the others. There was another directly in front of hers, then a linen closet, and finally the master suite. The fourth bedroom lay at the end of the hall, and next to it was what would become Orihime's bathroom. Satisfied, she turned back towards the kitchen, wanting to help Sora.

A chill ran down her spine. She stopped suddenly, blinking, and lifted a hand to her chest. Her heart had started racing. What was this unsettling feeling? Gazing into her room, she looked out the window, her eyes drawn to the space between the two houses in front, past the streetlamp, where the edge of the woods could be seen. The trees swayed gently in the outside breeze, gorgeous in the afternoon sunlight, but for whatever reason she felt nervous staring at them… as if they were looking at her.

…

The next day, after the movers had gone and she'd done a healthy amount of unpacking, Orihime told Sora that she was going out to get some fresh air. Earlier that morning they had registered her at Killeen High School, which was a good twenty minutes away with all the traffic lights between it and Pershing Park. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to start until Monday. She'd kind of been hoping to get it out of the way.

Wales Street was a downwards slope that ran perpendicular to the highway, parallel to the woods, and cut almost entirely through Pershing Park. She remembered her way to the shopette in the middle of the housing area, hoping that they had ice cream, because chilly weather always made her crave chilly food. Her taste buds were wired strangely, she supposed.

About three houses down from her own, she observed a small crowd gathered in the neighboring yard. The majority of them appeared to be upset: arms crossed, mouths pressed into thin lines, heads shaking. A few of the children in the group were chattering excitedly. Orihime slowed as she approached them, wondering what was going on.

"Just like the other ones, too. A hole torn right into its throat. I'm tellin' ya, what kind of monster would do that to a poor cat?"

"Hooligans! It's all them damn brats that live around here, stirring up trouble again. They broke into my house the other night! Left all the doors and windows unlocked, but didn't take a thing. What a stupid prank!"

"Come on, that gang moved out of here years ago. Our kids would never do something like this."

"We ought to call the MPs, see what they make of all this."

"You already know what they're going to say, don't you? They're going to blame the ghost."

"Please! Ain't no such thing. Nobody's seen it, right? It's just a bunch of snot-nosed children raising hell 'cause they've got nothin' better to do." The older woman saying this noticed Orihime then, and called out to her with a sharp voice, "Hey!" The young girl flinched in surprise. "Come here a second, chickadee. You just moved in, right?"

Orihime hesitated a moment. The crowd had also turned to stare at her, but the hostility melted from their faces when they saw her. Surely a nice-looking girl like her couldn't have done whatever they were angry about. "Uh, yeah." She ventured closer. "My brother and I… my name is Orihime, and his is Sora… he's in the military."

"Ah, welcome to the neighborhood!" The older woman clapped her on the back enthusiastically. "Asian, too? Always nice to see some variety around here. You can call me Mrs. Anderson; I know everything about this here neighborhood, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask!"

Orihime nodded once and turned her head to see what they had all gathered around. Her stomach turned uncomfortably at the sight. Oh, it was definitely a cat… never mind the fact that its head had almost been torn clean off, a gaping hole in its throat, dried blood spilled out over the cheerfully green grass. Mrs. Anderson was speaking again, this time to a pair of housewives that had been whispering behind their hands. "Listen to yourselves! Ain't no such thing as ghosts. This cat was probably killed by a fox or a raccoon, or even a wild dog! We've got plenty of those around here. Forest is full of them!"

"She likes to deny it," a soft voice whispered in Orihime's ear, startling her, "but it's true." It was one of the housewives, leaning over her conspiratorially. "Learn this quick, new neighbor: Wales Street is haunted. Not just one house, either, but all of them." Her plump cheeks paled considerably. "If you've got pets, keep them indoors, and don't ever go out alone after sunset, hear me?"

"Y-Yes ma'am!" Orihime said quickly. She didn't have the heart to tell this woman that, like Mrs. Anderson, she didn't believe in ghosts. Her eyes fixed on the dead cat again. Anything could have killed that poor creature. There was no need to be afraid.

Sora, on the other hand, was a total baby when it came to ghost stories, so hopefully he wouldn't hear about any of this.

…

Killeen High School's mascot was a kangaroo – but not just any kangaroo, a fighting one. Orihime had to give them points for originality. Not many other high schools could claim such an interesting representative.

The Welcome Committee girl that they sent to show her around was named Rukia Kuchiki, and she was very short. But to make up for her stature, she had a big personality. If someone was in their way, she had no problems yelling at them to move their slow asses to the side of the hall. She was delighted to hear that Orihime lived in Pershing Park. "I'm in Venable Village!" Rukia declared proudly. "We can hang out after school if you'd like. Quick, let me see your schedule! If we have the same lunch period, I can introduce you to the gang."

So far, this was the easiest transition Orihime had ever had to make. At her last school, she'd been bullied in the beginning. She hadn't told Sora of course; he had plenty of other things to worry about. So she'd toughed it out until she had found a group of people willing to stick up for her. But she could tell that bullying wouldn't be a problem here. Military towns were full of diverse crowds. Everyone understood "being the new kid", so if they wanted to find something to dislike about her, they'd have to get to know her first.

Rukia's friends, for the most part, were as animated as she was. A cute boy named Ichigo, who Orihime figured was Rukia's boyfriend considering their proximity – and how much they bickered over every little thing – welcomed her. A boy with glasses named Uryuu, who she had seen in two of her classes already, greeted her politely. A huge Mexican boy nicknamed Chad nodded and smiled at her. And finally, there was a tall girl with an athletic build named Tatsuki, who had known Ichigo for years and didn't put up with his shenanigans either. They spent the lunch period giving her some healthy advice: The pizza line would always be the longest; the fastest way from the band hall to the science building was a straight shot through the school, with one turn in the 400 hall; the home economics classes were hidden in little branches, but she wouldn't have to worry because Uryuu was in her design class, and he'd be more than happy to wait for her; the French teacher Ms. Matsumoto was not-so-secretly dating Vice Principal Ichimaru, so if Orihime ever got in trouble, she should bring up the blonde to distract him.

Orihime smiled, making mental notes of all this advice; it didn't make much sense to her now, but when she got to know the school a little better she would apply it liberally. Not that she planned on getting into enough trouble to be sent to the assistant principal's office, but plans could always change. She couldn't deny that she'd enjoyed her share of pranks.

At the end of the day, Rukia escorted her to the grassy lawn at the front of the school where buses retrieved the students. Theirs was unfortunately packed – Rukia explained that the district was too lazy to assign a new bus to the Venable Village kids – so they all had to deal with what little space they had been given. Orihime was glad that she had someone to sit with, at least. She hated riding next to strangers; the awkward proximity, the silence, uncomfortable skin contact with every passing bump on the road. And even with her overstuffed backpack, Rukia was too small for any of that weird stuff to happen. They shared a pleasant ride across town, with the black-haired girl explaining Killeen's football rivalry with the other four high schools in the vicinity the entire way.

"This city is pretty crappy, but you'll like it, I think," she said as they stepped off of the bus in Pershing Park. "Everyone who leaves is somehow drawn back, even if they don't want to be."

"Oh, this is much better than El Paso," Orihime reassured her. "The only green there was in the cemeteries, and those aren't the best places for a picnic, if you know what I mean."

Rukia laughed, "Well, that's good to hear." She pointed off to a wide path between two of the houses on Wales. "See there, with the high fences on either side? That sidewalk leads to Venable Village. It's a safe shot through the woods." Despite the daylight, Orihime found it hard to make out what was beyond the two uneven planks, which stood like sentries guarding an entrance to sacred ground. She saw the high trees looming nearby, but because the path sloped downwards, the rest was hidden from sight. Rukia nudged her side. "It's not as scary as it looks, trust me." And with that, she started in the direction of the forest.

"I'm not scared!" Orihime squeaked, following close behind. In the event of a stalker, she had mace attached to her keychain, and a few months worth of self-defense classes to teach him a lesson with. If they got lost – though she doubted that possibility with the marked path – her cell phone had a built-in GPS. But if the aliens decided to come for them, well, her survival kit was at home in the bottom of her closet, so she was screwed. Other than that, she was set!

"Your neighbors have probably told you all of the ghost stories by now, huh?" Rukia grinned. "It's alright. They creep me out too; I don't blame you for being worried."

"Oh, I don't believe in ghosts." Orihime waved a hand dismissively. "But I've seen one too many horror movies, so I don't trust wooded areas."

"Really?" Rukia turned to look at her as they crossed the street and made their way to the start of the path. "So nothing, you know, weird has happened to you yet? I mean, I've heard some pretty crazy stories about this street." She drew her backpack's straps a little tighter. "People's pets freaking out at night, or going missing and turning up with their throats torn out; this awful, rotting stench after it rains; doors and windows unlocking by themselves; scratch-marks on the sides of houses… and that strange sound that at least five people have sworn they've heard," she shivered, "of something like giant wings flapping."

Orihime wrinkled her nose. "That could all be easily explained by something else," she said, taking the opportunity to admire her surroundings. The woods opened up into a large clearing on their left, separated from the houses by a hill covered in a dense conglomeration of trees. It really wasn't that scary; in fact, Orihime thought, it wouldn't be a bad place to come and take a nap on sunny afternoons. Directly up ahead, the woods grew thicker, casting shadows over what looked like a shallow river with a small bridge stretching over it. She was so distracted by the sight that she didn't hear Rukia speak until she poked her in the arm. "Huh?"

"I said, like what?" the shorter girl inquired, smiling.

"Well," Orihime took a deep breath and made an exaggerated gagging face, "it already smells funny down here, so rain could easily make the scent worse. There are wild animals in these woods, which could account for both the scratches and the dead pets."

Rukia hummed thoughtfully. "What about the doors and windows?" she asked as they stepped onto the bridge.

"I'll get back to you on that one. My neighbors think it's a bunch of troublemaking kids, though." Orihime stopped suddenly, her eyes drawn to something on the side of the wooden structure. Right in the middle, overlooking the dirty water below, was a small white cross, not unlike the ones placed on the sides of the roads in remembrance of traffic fatalities. "What's that? Somebody died here?"

Rukia paused. "Oh, yeah. A couple of years back, when I was still in middle school." She came to stand at Orihime's side, peering down at the cross. "He was around our age, I think. Went to Killeen High, hung out with the gang that used to live on Wales Street. They've all moved by now, thank goodness." She frowned huffily. "They used to pick on me, but he was really quiet; always stayed out of their way, though I'm sure he tried to get them to stop once or twice. Anyway," she shrugged, "they found him in the water shortly after he went missing. It's weird, though. The river's barely ankle-deep, so the police suspected foul play. They even interrogated his friends, since half of them had bad reps, but everyone had an alibi. We were all paranoid that there was a murderer in the woods or something… hey, where are you going?"

"Hold on a second!" Orihime had jogged away from Rukia, her eyes scanning the nearby grass. There! She smiled triumphantly as she leaned down and plucked a few wildflowers, glad that not all of them had been killed by the chilling weather yet. Then she returned to where Rukia had been watching her and, tugging a few persistent clumps of dirt from the roots, she set the flowers down in front of the cross. "If there's one thing I've learned from living in El Paso, a place so rich in culture, it's that you should always honor the dead." She clapped her hands free of dirt and smiled at the small offering. "It's not much, but it'll make him happy, I'm sure."

Rukia sighed. "Wow. Make me feel bad with your heart of gold, why don't ya," she said jokingly.

Orihime laughed and turned away from the cross. "Ah, well." She shrugged. "Say, do you think that the guy who died is the one 'haunting' the houses on Wales?" she said, making finger-quotations in the air.

"No," Rukia's expression suddenly turned grim, "a nice guy like him? Never." She spared an over-the-shoulder glance at the innocent white cross. "Whatever's in these woods isn't some poor kid… it's a freaking monster."

…

It would have been nice if they'd cut her some slack, being the new student and all. But such transitions, Orihime had learned over the better part of her childhood, did not evoke sympathy in most. Homework piled on no matter who you were and how recently you had moved. Warily eyeing the clock hanging above her bed – it was well past midnight – she cursed her misfortune, thinking of how much she just wanted to sleep. Her last school had operated on a block schedule, offering her the opportunity to put off assignments for at least half of her classes, but Killeen shoved all seven periods into one day. "Work," she grumbled, "work, work, work!" Ignoring the papers scattered on the desk before her would not make them disappear, as nice as that would have been.

Her stomach growled, but Sora was already in bed and she didn't want to risk waking him by venturing out to visit the refrigerator. Besides, she could simply wait and have breakfast in the morning. Midnight munchies were a surefire way to gain weight for an adolescent female, she thought with dismay. As delicious as the leftovers of the dinner she had prepared earlier sounded, she would rebuke the tantalizing memory of its taste and conquer Algebra II once and for all.

The neighbor's dog struck up a chorus of yelps outside. Orihime blinked, looking up from her papers. The blinds were closed, the curtains drawn, but a sliver of orange light from the lamp across the street managed to sneak into her room, casting its glow on her idle hands. She listened for a while, wondering what had the dog so distressed.

Wait a minute! Her eyes widened in excitement. Now was her chance, she realized, to catch the hooligans in the act! Oh, where was her camera when she needed it? Standing carefully from her desk chair, she tip-toed to her unfortunately still-made bed and stooped over. She had invested in storage baskets for the sake of keeping her things, as she had a tendency to hoard, which she kept under the bed to avoid leaving a mess around the room. Why she'd never put food in there was beyond her; perhaps she would ask Sora to take her to Wal-Mart the next day so she could stock up.

Reaching for one of the baskets, she groped around in the lamplight until she found the small box that contained her digital camera. "Ugh!" she whispered, retracting her hand. The box was wet. "What the heck?" Panicking, she tugged it open and hoped that the contents were safe. Luckily, she had a habit of keeping the camera wrapped up in the same plastic it had come in, and upon dumping it into her hand she was pleased to discover that it was perfectly dry.

But how had it gotten… oh! Now she remembered. Back when they had been unpacking, she had clumsily spilled a bottle of water into one of the boxes. Sora had handled the contents, asking her to fetch the paper towels. Why hadn't he told her that her camera was in there? She'd have to kick him in the morning. Pressing down on the power button, she thanked her good fortune; there was plenty of battery left to get a snapshot of the troublesome kids as they escaped the scene of whatever crime they were committing.

Orihime excitedly danced over to her window and snapped the curtains back, then grabbed hold of the plastic stick hanging down from the top and began to turn it, the blinds creaking open slowly. She glanced at her camera's screen, switching options so that she could get a decent night shot and made sure the pesky flash was off. "That ought to do it," she muttered, looking out into the empty street. Now she, the new neighbor with good intentions, could dispel the myth that had the housewives and Rukia so restless.

The camera slipped from her hand and fell onto her algebra textbook with a thud.

What…

What was that?

Her eyes honed in on the dark, disfigured mass atop the streetlight, a shot of ice speeding through her veins, seizing her heart in its powerful grip. It was huge, whatever it was. How had the pole not bent or toppled beneath its weight? The orange light did nothing to help her discern what she could possibly be looking at, but she was starting to get a pretty good feeling…

Something moved. Yes, she saw it, descending from the figure, hanging like a vine: a tail. One long black string that twitched in the glow of the lamp. And then – as if the thing couldn't possibly get any bigger – the shadow elongated horizontally. A black outline formed against the night sky as, in a surprisingly nimble gesture, the grotesque being lifted from the post and vanished without a trace.

But in the ensuing silence, Orihime heard it as clearly as she'd heard her camera hit the surface of the desk: the sound of enormous wings beating the air overhead.

…

She wouldn't tell anyone. Nope. No one at all. They didn't have to know that the girl who had proudly proclaimed her disbelief in ghosts had just seen, with her own two eyes, a demon. Yes, that's what it had to be. A pet slaying, house-haunting demon.

Sora had been awakened by the clatter of her camera, and he'd paused outside of Orihime's door to ask if she was alright. Yes, she had replied, perfectly fine. Of course she was fine. Why wouldn't she be? Never mind the fact that she'd seen a monster across the street, she was a-ok. Hunky-dory. Life was a big basket of freshly baked bread and she was going to take a huge, buttery bite!

Perhaps she was dreaming, she thought as she hastily put her homework away, closed the window, and marched to her bed. She'd given up on algebra an hour or so earlier and climbed into the warmth of her Hello Kitty comforter, but the assignment's demands to be completed plagued her otherwise uneventful rest.

It was a dream, she told herself as she slipped beneath the covers.

All of those silly stories had just gotten to her. That was all.

She squeezed her eyes shut, threw the blankets over her head and reached for Soldier, the teddy bear dressed in BDUs that Sora had given her when he'd first joined the military. "This is just a dream," she whispered fervently, then took several deep calming breaths as she waited for sleep to come for her. "Just a dream…"

"Yoo-hoo…"

Orihime's mind grew cloudy, her grip on the bear loosening. Yes, finally. She would soon awaken to the sounds of the local radio station belting out a pop song from her alarm clock radio.

"Hey!"

"Huh?"

"Were you listening to a damn word I said? God, you've been spacing out more than usual, I swear." A long-faced teenager with electric blue hair and eyes to match was glaring right at her… her? No, him. He was glaring at him. How in the world had he gotten to Killeen High School's cafeteria? "Take your nose out of the book for one damn second and tell me what you think," the gruff boy shoved two index card-sized pieces of paper in his direction, "this print, or this one? Personally I like the one on the left, but it's a group decision so we need your input."

He looked down: a sequence of numbers from 0 to 9, each in a different font. "I think my parents would kill me if I got a tattoo."

"Oh, grow the fuck up. We're going to college next year! Mom and Dad won't be chasing you around, you know. Besides, unless they suddenly decided to go to the beach, they wouldn't see it anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Yours was going to be on your chest, wasn't it?"

"Who in the world decided that?"

A girl with long, wavy hair dyed neon-green took the arm of the blue-haired guy. "Don't scare him, Grimmjow," she scolded before turning to the black-haired boy with the vivid emerald eyes. "You can get it anywhere you choose. I'm going to have mine put right in the middle of my back!"

"What a trooper!" The blue-haired boy – Grimmjow, was it? – looped a muscled arm around her waist and kissed her deeply. "See? Even Nel's going through with it, so you'd better not chicken out on us." He began pulling Nel in the direction of the pizza line. "I'm freaking starving. Have one chosen by the time I get back or I'm picking for you!"

As they departed, he lowered his head, green eyes darting back and forth between the two index cards. He considered the first, then the second, then the first again. Apprehensive as he may have been, he agreed that the one on the left was much better. He tapped his finger against the ornately drawn number four, wishing he could somehow talk Grimmjow out of this. But he was the leader; what he wanted, he always got – even the number six, though it hardly made sense that the top dog would settle for anything other than one.

Oh well. He was to blame for getting mixed in with such an interesting crowd. But when it came right down to it, the quiet ones were always a magnet for the loudest, so he shouldn't have expected anything less. They were his friends, they loved him – sometimes – and they wanted him to get a tattoo.

Even though it hurt; the needle and ink piercing his flesh, burning as it tied him to them for the rest of eternity.

Searing, scorching, scalding… it hurt so much… so much…

Orihime gasped, bolting upright in bed. Her alarm clock was belting a Black Eyed Peas song. Her top was halfway unbuttoned. Her entire body was drenched in sweat, hair matted to her forehead, pajamas sticking to her back and legs; she might as well have had a bucket of water dumped on her. And her fingernails, which she now removed from the space between her left breast and collarbone to stare at in horror, had savagely clawed her burning skin until it bled.

To Be Continued

A/N: In case you were wondering: Moratorium: a suspension of activity. This is going somewhere, I swear. And this is the last idea standing in the way of my finishing Muse!

…was it somewhat scary enough? Do let me know by clicking that totally non-threatening button down there!