Hey guys! I'm back. But my writers block is still sticking around! Dx So, I decided to attempt, main word there, attempt, to knock it down and start writing well again.
Please, I beg, please give me tips and tell me how to fix up my writing? I would really appreciate it.
Disclaimer: Bleach, of course,is not mine. Because if it was... there would be much more yaoi. :P

Small fingers slipped on the slick grip of the rubber handled knife shaking in a tiny hand. Huge green eyes emptied the entirety of their emotions as silent tears slipped down the young boy's face. The sharp blade of his father's hunting knife glinted evilly in the half darkness of the family's pantry. Oh how the boy despised the pantry, its lingering stench of spice, half rotted fruit and old pine had been a constant in the child's most horrific memories. Those confining wooden walls had been both his safe haven and his hell. The first time it happened, the horror, the fear, the overwhelming reek of blood and terror, they would always be his first memory. Those scant few minutes would consistently reappear in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

The front door slammed shut with an angry clunk, the noise reverberating throughout the entire house. A toddler jumped, teetering precariously for a moment upon his perch at the kitchen bench before a pair of warm arms swept him to a well padded chest. Vibrant emerald eyes stared up through pitch black hair, meeting with soft grey for a moment before scrunching together into the beginning of a smile that matched his mother's.

"Rangiku! Oi! Wench, get here now!" A booming voice filled the room, causing the brunette to stiffen suddenly, clutching her child to her chest.

"G-Gin? You're home?" Surprise coloured the voice coated with honey, the woman's eyes flitting up to meet with that of her pale haired husband's.

"Well nah, I'm not. I'm still at the pub. Dumb slut, use your brain for once! Where's my dinner?" The loud thumping of boots against tiles pressed closer and the boy twisted his head around as far as his mother's hand allow. He barely caught a snatch of it, blood-shot eyes, wide snarling lips with pointed teeth glaring out at the world, a pale complexion with slightly flushed cheeks. For the child, it was his worst nightmare come true. Small hands clenched in his mother's tight fitting shirt, pulling his small body closer to that comforting warmth.

"I- I apologise. I did not expect you home so early. Your dinner is still cooking."

The scraping of chair legs against the floor stopped abruptly, "What did you say!?"

The boy could hear more than see Rangiku's gulping and he felt her stumble backwards slightly. "I am cooking roast pork. It will be ready soon. I'm sorry Gin." Her fringe brushed against the top of his black locks causing the child to squeeze his eyes shut and whimper in fear.

A sharp movement, a rustle of cloth and the raven haired boy felt himself being ripped from his mother's arms and thrown against the table, eyes shooting open to meet the clouded icy blue of his father's.

The boy's mother instantly began screaming, her hands ripping at the larger man's arm, attempting to pry it away from her son's thin shoulder. A quick jab backwards with Gin's elbow knocked her out and sent her sprawling to the floor. Tears of terror began leaking from the child's eyes, leaving very distinct tracks down his plump cheeks.

"She's always loved you more than me you know." A nasty sneer spread across normally handsome features as a large hand ran almost gently through the boy's hair. Leaning back as far away from his father he could the child squeezed his eyes shut, whimpers leaking from partially opened lips. "I've hated you for that since you were born." A harsh chuckle interrupted his words. "Ulquiorra Ichimaru, the child I wish had died at birth." Gin cocked his head at his son. "You are so cute it's unfair."

A scrape of metal against polished granite benches sounded, causing bright green eyes to flick over to the hand dragging a huge knife closer to his face. The weight on Ulquiorra's shoulder shifted to press hard against his forehead, a shriek of pain was pulled from the boy. Sadistic sparks flicked to life in the sky blue orbs glaring down at him and the stench of urine filled the air.

It was when Gin Ichimaru began tracing the tear tracks with his knife, sharp edge slicing deep into young flesh, that Rangiku woke up, eyes flaring huge at the sight before her. Screeches of agony rang through the air and blood slowly seeped down the sides of her son's face before spreading onto the bench top. The ding of the oven barely heard over the screams of her child.

Ulquiorra reached up to run a hand down the scars lining from just underneath his eyes to the bottom of his jaw. A renewed flash of hate surged through the seven year old. Since that day, whenever his father had come home from the pub Rangiku had always hidden him away inside the despicable pantry. He was locked in there so many times it was impossible to count them all. Every time he was shut in he was forced to hear his mother's cries of pain, the wet slaps of blood spraying everywhere and other noises that he was unable to identify at his age. The boy hated it more than anyone could ever even hope to identify, he hated it so much, that on his seventh birthday(on which he spent the night locked in the pantry) he had made a vow to kill his father the next time he assaulted the woman that had kept him half sane.

An extra loud screech smashed into Ulquiorra's ears, momentarily deafening him, knocking the boy from his thoughts. The raven haired child squeezed his eyes shut, the old scars twinging slightly before he wrapped both hands around the large knife. His chest heaved in a deep breath, his shoulders were set then a pair of luminescent green orbs shone in the darkness before there was the loud crash of slotted doors being kicked open.

Both of the boy's parent stared in surprise, his dad towering over Rangiku as he was caught in between two strikes with his fist. Taking his brief advantage Ulquiorra lunged forward, blade plunging upwards to stick directly up into his father's throat forcing the man to stumble backwards. He jerked the now bloodied piece of metal out, that crimson liquid squirting out with it to spray him in the face. Not wasting another second to even admire Gin's look of complete horror and agony he shoved the knife deep into the back of the pale haired man's neck, severing spinal cords. Both males then dropped to their knees, the younger continuing to drive the knife into the heavily muscled body of the man who had caused his nightmares. It was only his mother's arms wrapping around his waist, her soft humming that stopped Ulquiorra in the end. Her thin fingers prying the same knife used to mark him from the boy's hand.

Without another word the seven year old collapsed against his mother's chest, tears once more slipping down those marks that had been made those four years ago.