RWBY: Nightmares

by Its also a gun

Hello everyone! Small update, I apologize for uploading only one story like half a year ago. I have been occupied with my upcoming job and the first half of senior year. In the future I will dedicate more time to supplying content! Anyways, to the story. This is another ArKos piece, but with a much darker tone. This was an old draft from awhile ago, before volume 3. Hope you enjoy!

Pyrrha pushed herself onto her hands and knees. With her remaining strength, she crawled forward. Pain. She felt so much pain. She was injured, fatigued, dehydrated, and her aura was depleted. She was crawling towards something, a call. Her name. The area around her, barren, broken trees and charred ground all contributed to the same lifeless look. Destruction, a wasteland. Smoke billowed skyward, blotting out the sun and hope along with it. She crawled closer and closer. Now she could see through her hazy eyes enough to make out the two figures that lay before her. One was vastly larger than the other. The larger one was a few metres farther, and was obviously inhuman. She could see the blade of Miló embedded in the beast's temple. The closer one was human. Her mind told her who it was before she could see. But it continued to call her.

Closer and closer she came. Her hand reached out, bruised and bloodied.

'Wake up' she could hear. Was she saying that?

Before her hand made contact with the body everything froze. Then, the body's left gloved hand shot up and grabbed her wrist.

The same process, every night. The same nightmare, every night. Pyrrha rolled over after waking once again, and peered across the room to the blonde dork that lay peaceful in his bed opposite to her's in the room. Every night. As vivid as consciousness itself and so often as if fate were trying to warn her. Losing him. A thought she can't bear. Pyrrha stares across the dark room towards her partner. Fear consumes her. It's too dark for her to see him breathe, to see that he's still alive. She rises out of her bed and gingerly steps across the room. To silence the demons that mocked and danced around her, she lightly, ever so lightly pressed her index and middle fingers to the exposed side of Jaunes neck. His heartbeat confirmed the life in him that Pyrrha (thanks to her constant horrific dream) feared was gone. But it was of course still there.

As Pyrrha walked back to her bed, she began again trying to understand why she was so fearful of losing him, and why her mind insisted on reminding her. She figured it had something to do with the way he had treated her. So unlike the others. Viewing her as a friend instead of a celebrity. She laid down, trying to free her mind of her thoughts and soon drifted off into slumber once again.