Late morning in the English countryside; a small slice of heaven, if one will, practically undisturbed by centuries of hostility and aggression. Light grey clouds hung overhead, like a dreary filter over the world below. The scent of anticipated rain clung to the air, and the local wildlife had scampered back to their holes for shelter. Of the few places on Earth still untouched by the march of time, this had to be one of her favorites...
A mere several hundred yards from the nearest home belonging to the quaint little village, the very reason for Abigaíl's visit to some place so remote felled a tree as it landed heavily on the shaking ground.
The Hollow, a great beast most closely resembling a cross between elephant and gorilla, was silenced just before it could roar in defiance of the smaller figure that fought against it. The smaller, human figure of Abigaíl pinned it to the ground with her zanpakutō, and used her arms and legs to further restrain its limbs with greater strength than she should have otherwise possessed. With a gleeful hiss, the chelicerae that adorned her mask unfolded, and she bit down into the creature's throat with merciless abandon.
Its cries died with a jagged whimper as the vizard's venom coursed painfully through its veins. All but dead already, there was nothing left to the creature but to suffer as it was made a meal, consumed by the woman happily drinking from its liquidized flesh.
In minutes, the Hollow had been reduced to but a husk. Its pathetic cries and attempts to escape were all that reminded one that it was truly a living creature, though that mattered naught to the woman straddling its abdomen.
Abigaíl sat up and smiled behind her mask, and breathed a very satisfied sigh now that her hunger was abated. Several new rips and tears let her skin show through the old jeans she wore, and droplets of the beast's blood splattered across her almost-too small, purple t-shirt; on it, the name of some punk band from years prior.
With blackened eyes staring at the emaciated creature beneath her, she lifted her blade from its shoulder, and drove the steel again through its mask and head. What was left of the Hollow was purified immediately, and slowly dissolved as its reiatsu died with a final gasp.
Her free hand rose and pulled the mask from her face, revealing the woman's elated grin to the world. She stood, legs and sneakers now caked in mud and dirt from the knee-down. The same hand as had removed her vanished mask wiped the bits of gore from her lips and chin, and she casually licked the treat from her finger and thumb.