To RemnusPast in chapter 18…challenge accepted. I guess? So here's your promise.
[Hotline RWBY: Dementia of a sociopath]
[December 28th, 1991, 16:40-Florida, Miami]
Blood…blood is all I can see. The walls everywhere covered in crimson liquid, the corpses of my foes stain on my graveled cell. Questioning of why I am here? How many kill counts I have. Asking if I like killing them and staining my own hands in their own blood…giving them zero mercy.
Their questions are all true. I have no reasons of doing it and no regret of why I do it…no justification, just madness.
I have no regrets of murdering those who get in my way…
I have no remorse when they ask me to spare them if they have nothing for me…
I have no reasons of why I'm doing it and zero justification of why I do it…
There is, only just madness…and I'm in somewhere in Miami, somewhere inside a prison cell…why am I here and rotting away exactly?
Tapping my fingers to pass the time, the corpses on the floors whispering to me, asking me to do more deviant things in this prison…stain more blood, raise my kill count. That sounds like a good idea actually.
*Creeeak*
Who is it and what this person…BEARD!
Turning to my old friend where we fought back in Hawaii against those commie bastards. The walls around me are gray and it looks like I am in a prison cell. The walls and the floor are covered in stone. Can't remember what I was doing before. Why I am in a prison, why I can't remember before?
Staring to my Lieutenant who saved my ass in the power plant before it can blow our ass up, his brown beard grown big and he still wore his glasses back at Hawaii along wearing a police officer uniform as I presumably believe he's working here.
Although Beard isn't really his name though, I didn't ask his real name exactly and I wonder what it is?
"Hey bud, you seem to stress out in the prison. Yeah I know, drop the soap and you probably be someone's prison bitch. I know it's tough for you to be here. But I got something to relieve your stress while you're here. It's on the house."
Handing something to me on his right palm that looks like a rubber ball wrapped around in his fingers. I gladly accepted my old friend's offer as he places the ball in my palm of my right hand. Knowing Beard wouldn't leave my side at all.
Looking down at the ball and rubbing it in my hand. I turn my head up and my friend Beard is gone, replaced by someone I know that it said it'll leave me be permanently…as my eyes seared to its face. Where his eyes are non-existent, only a void to look inside, and a face of a chicken of the first mask I wore…
Richard…
Looking around here, I am now suddenly in this dark, ominous room with a large wooden table in the center of this room. With no doors, no windows, and varieties of corpses sitting on their chairs surrounded the table near me. Only I and Richard are sitting down…with a projector on the table facing me.
The people who are sitting near me…died in many horrific variations, one who looks like a redneck got shot in the head. An actor I think I known him, have bullet wounds riddled in his body. A group of five who are wearing animal masks that they look like they can be affiliated with the organization that I joined up with, died in very gruesome deaths. Two who look like are Russian mobsters and seeing those two Russians makes me angry. With one with his legs ripped and bleeding, another got his head bashed to a pulp as his pink brain matter spilling out.
The rest…are skeletons and seared in smoke.
The only ones here who are not dead are me and Richard. As I'm sitting opposite to Richard on this ragged, worn out wooden chair. Facing directly to Richard as 'its' wearing the same clothing that I wore before.
"Looks like we meet again…when I said we part ways, it appears you and I, are not done yet here to do a change of fate." Hearing its raspy, dark voice spoke onto me, what does he…or it mean by that?
"You are wondering why I'm still here and questioning why I am still here that I said I'll leave you be. It appears that statement is false of what I said. It appears someone…some people are not dead here. Some copycats who idolized you, people who are involve with you, and the gang you'd joined are not done with. It appears to be a test for you. A test of your fans, those people you have influence, along with you to be solved by yourself…if you and they are worthy to live there, you and they continue to live…if some can't. Well, the inevitable comes and cannot avoid their unfortunate fate that comes to them."
What do you mean?
"A change of fate." Richard answered my incomplete question nonchalantly and the projector facing me lit up. A flash of light searing through my skin and see my skeleton hands burn up to ashes.
When the light faded…there is only darkness. Then…I see light again.
Are you happy RemnusPast...:C Also, I can't make an angry emote for this site for some reason.