Bleach: Can't Fear Your Own World Novels & Stories

"We'll just be friends again." Silence. Then he smiled. A small smile. Then: "Yeah." The answer came easily. Surprisingly easily. Then: "Yeah." Then: "I'm willing." The weapon exploded. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! Golden light erupted across reality itself. The sky disappeared. The battlefield disappeared. The world disappeared. Everyone shielded their eyes. Unable to look directly at it. Then the horror screamed. Not roared. Not growled. Screamed. A sound filled with genuine fear.

I clench my fists, determined to prove her wrong. As she turns to leave, a wicked grin playing on her lips, she pauses and looks back at me. “One last thing, Xavie listens to me. We don’t want him to change his mind about you now, do we, Luna?” she sneers, chucking the bleach at me. My heart sinks as I realise the lid isn’t on the bleach, and it pours over me, burning my skin and ruining what’s left of my dress. I bite my trembling lower lip, vowing not to let her break me.

I can only see her. She walks straight into the pool. “Mom!” Then a crash splits the Earth itself. The haze dissipates. And suddenly I see myself, an inch away from the depth of the water. My feet are rooted on the shoreline, where the mud is already sinking into the water from my weight. My eyes flash to the sound. A ripple breaks the serenity of the pool. There’s a familiar, panicked scream. And I cannot believe my eyes. “...Blaise.” —————————————————————————————————

The cloak’s words, calm and venomous, looped endlessly in my head: Everything doesn’t revolve around you, Bruce. Sleep wasn’t rest anymore, it was a means of replay. Every time my eyes closed, I was back beneath the rubble; coughing, clawing, and choking on dust while a shadowed figure walked away from me. Each inhale reminded me of that night; the bitter smoke, the heat of metal, the deafening collapse. I had thought I knew fear, but this was something else. This was helplessness, and I, Bruce Blake, had never been known to be helpless.

“No, this… this isn’t real. It can’t be real.” Alex reached out instinctively, his hand brushing Blue’s arm. The touch sent a jolt through him—familiar, grounding, terrifying. “It’s real,” Alex murmured, his voice a steady anchor in the chaos. “And we don’t have time to waste.” Blue’s breath came in ragged bursts as panic clawed at his throat. He wanted to scream, to fight, to tear down the walls of this suffocating reality. But beneath the fear, a spark flickered—a spark of something fierce and unyielding. A spark that refused to be snuffed out.

“Not again.” The thought was a cold knife, slicing through the creative haze. Instinctively, my free hand flew to my lower belly, pressing against the familiar, dreaded ache. Fear, old and corrosive, surged, a phantom taste of antiseptic and blood, the echo of a doctor’s devastating words, the crushing weight of loss. The palette knife clattered onto the drop cloth.

He gaggled it, trying not to swallow but since he had been held down and his head kept in place, he couldn't throw it out. He ended up in a coughing git. “That was to warn you. That was water.” I dropped the can on the side and picked up the real can of bleach. “This is bleach. I'm sure you can tell.” As I opened the can, the smell filled the room and I saw the way his pupils shook when he smelt it. “Now will you tell me what I want to hear or you'd make me actually do this? I'm sure you know what this would do if I poured it down your throat. From your mouth, down your throat, to your stomach and then everywhere else.”

I demanded, fury in my voice. Jade smirked, holding up a bottle of bleach. The strong, stinging smell hit my nose, and panic shot through me. “Oh no!" I shrieked, feeling the bleach burn my scalp. My hands flew to my head, desperately trying to wipe it away, but the taps in every room I tried were dry. They’d planned this. Minutes and minutes passed as they each blocked my way into every room for about 10 minutes. “Help!” I screamed, running to my room’s bathroom and plunging my head under the faucet. My heart sank as I watched strands of my hair fall out, and my once-brown hair turn a fiery, unnatural red and brown.

The platform breaks. The air itself splits open again. And in the falling silence, I whisper: “You’re not the only one who can make a world collapse.” Her eyes open wide. In fear. Real fear. And gods… I’ve never tasted anything sweeter.

Stand still, the voices command. The sword begins to move. Slowly. Dangling. Lower. My heart slams so hard I think I might black out. Ezra’s voice breaks. “Stop it—this is enough—!” Silence. The blade lowers another inch. Something burns behind my eyes. The world peels open. I gasp as visions slam into me — a beach soaked in moonlight, blood streaking across white tile, a woman screaming my name. Portals tearing open like wounds.