Chapter Zero: The Bloody Rose

(Four Years Ago)

The forest was quiet this night, devoid of the usual incessant buzzing of bugs and seemingly endless ringing of cicadas. The animals, even birds, seemed to have been spooked by something. Like the sensing of a tsunami before impact, the animals had sensed something so terrible that it had triggered their flight or flight response—or in this case flight.

This phenomenon did not go unnoticed, as on this night it was not completely devoid of life. A single woman was walking through the eerie silence with purpose, like she had a destination already in mind.

The youthful woman was striking in her appearance: long, jet-black hair that was feathered, looking like a bird's wings in flight. Red gauntlets encased her arms, with her left resting on a large, mechanical sheath hanging from her waist. She wore a short, red kimono the same color as her eyes, leaving only black leggings to cover her long legs.

The woman, Raven, had taken note of the lack of wildlife. It was definitely suspicious, as it as the sudden absence of animals that generally marked an incoming disaster. Even the Creatures of Grimm, the monsters that hounded mankind to near extinction multiple time over the course of history, also seemed to be absent. She kept her senses razor-sharp, on the lookout for anything that could suddenly attack.

After pushing through a particular maze of branches, the beads around her neck ruffled at a sudden bout of hot air. She had arrived at her target, it would seem.

The woman's red eyes focused on a mansion standing in the mists of a grouping of trees, the only man-made structure for dozens of hundreds of miles. Four stories in height, the out-of-place building seemed to be made from brick and cobblestone, affixed with many boarded up windows and a chimney up top. Though, despite its size, the house was still dwarfed by the huge trees that made up this specific forest.

The warrior took a quick look around, double checking on any predatory elements that may be lurking. Seeing no visual tells, she carefully made her way to the stairs leading towards the door. Raven took a deep breath and raised her right leg. The foot was put into position, and then it kicked through the thick, solid-oak door. The force was so great that the entire slab knocked off its hinges and splintered into pieces as it crashed into the floor.

As soon as the opening was made a strong metallic tang assaulted her senses, watering her eyes in the process; the woman's mouth became overpowered with the taste of blood. Raven's arm immediately went to cover her mouth and nose in a vain attempt to muffle the noxious scent from overpowering her sanity.

The sight before Raven on the other side of the door was straight out of a nightmare, and her stomach churned at the sight. Several strained coughs escaped Raven's now dry mouth. Such visceral reactions from the woman were very rare, as she has had many years to learn the art of self-discipline and had seen much violence in her time, but such savagery was a shock to even her experienced eyes.

The white interior walls were drenched in arterial spray so powerful parts of the ceiling had been painted red. The smooth, wooden floor that had once been cleaned and polished to a mirror-like sheen was now swollen and soggy with blood. But blood was far from the only thing on the floor.

Countless body parts had been violently ripped off and flung around with no rhyme or reason. The cut-off points were mangled beyond recognition; only one weapon was capable of this level of viciousness, and there was only one person who wielded it...

There was a door off to her left, along with a nearby staircase. To Raven's right was the wide living room filled with red-stained furniture and blood soaked carpet. Right in front of her was a space not unlike a hallway, which was the way she had to go.

Shocking or not, Raven was still a master of her own mind and body. She forced her arm back down to her side and started moving through the gore. She walked through the bloody aisle, the red wood warping under her weight, forming footprints of frothy blood in the floor.

How many people were slain for this amount of blood? She thought to herself as she stepped over a shredded leg. How many gallons upon gallons had been spilled to cover the walls and roof? For it to soak into the wooden floor in such vast amounts? It was a horrifying thought.

Raven soon found herself in front of an open door on the opposite side of the staircase: the entrance to the basement. Already halfway open, hot air seeped out of the opening, carrying with it a metallic stench many times more potent than the rest of the house; promising a site much more horrific hidden beneath her feet.

With a deep breath to compose her nerves, she opened the door the rest of the way.

A hot draft of air passed over her, ruffling her hair and loose kimono. It was pitch-black beyond the opening, so much so that not even the bottom portion of the stairs could be seen by her, but there was sound. The noise was that of dropping liquid falling into a body of stilll water. Given the state of the floor Raven quickly deduced that it was the excess from the blood-soaked wood, dripping overflow into the basement.

Her body was telling her run; honed instincts screaming at Raven to leave whatever was hiding in the dark depths. Her nerves of steel, however, overpowered her body's instincts and she stepped into the basement without a second thought, her stoic expression never once cracking.

Darkness crept around her body as she walked down the steps, swallowing her form like it did all else. It was surprisingly hot; not humid, but hot, as if there was a burning furnace nearby. The stench of blood was much more potent, poisoning Raven's mouth with the taste of raw iron. She likened to eating raw and bloody meat. Yet, despite all of this, she pressed on.

The stairs were relatively small, so she had quickly reached the bottom of the wooden steps in a matter of seconds. As she finished her final stride to the concrete floor her shoes stepped on something; soggy but hard, yet also somewhat soft. Reaching inside of her breast pocket, she pulled out a small, palm-sized flashlight. She turned it on, aiming the sole source of light down at her feet.

The thing she had stepped on was a human torso, and just a torso, lying in a crimson puddle. Missing both arms and legs, along with the head, it was lacking all signs of identification, with one exception. On the back of the blood-drenched shirt was the red wolf insignia of an infamous terrorist origination, known as the White Fang.

Raven adjusted her flashlight. Blood puddles covered the majority of the surprisingly warm floor. Not a single foot of space was free from blood or more mutilated body parts, scattered about like they were toys of some demented beast.

She moved her flashlight from overhead, which confirmed her suspicions of the bleeding floor/ceiling being the cause of the dripping noise. She moved her light down the brick wall, noting several banners with the White Fang insignia imprinted on them, before landing on—

Raven's breath stalled. Leaning up against a washer-dryer pair, a carnage-coated axe reflected the beam from her flashlight. From end to end, the monstrosity was almost as tall as her, and Its serrated blade coated in congealed blood, pieces of rancid meat from unfortunate victims still stuck in the saw chain. Its brass handle was partly wrapped in black cloth, improving the grip of whoever was strong enough, and insane enough, to wield it.

This was the weapon responsible for the frenzied massacre in this house. And since that weapon was here, that meant...

"Why are you here?" A shaky voice pierced through the darkness. A cold shiver raced down Raven's spine and she whipped her body around to face the voice's direction. On the complete opposite side of the room, tucked into the corner diagonal from her, a lone figure sat on a chair. With her flashlight, Raven saw the person unobstructed.

The person perched on the recliner, a girl who looked to be in her teens, caked in so much blood that it was impossible to see what she was wearing. The only visible features was the pale skin of the right side of her face, and her blood-matted black hair. However, it was not her bloody appearance that made Raven's skin crawl; it was her demeanor.

The teenager's shaking hands clasped in her lap so tightly that they were white in coloration. Her uneven breath was quick, almost like she was trying to calm herself down. The rigidity of her muscles; that shaky voice, and those tired, baggy silver eyes all contributed to an air of restraint.

And that was precisely the thing that made Raven's hair stand on end: if she wasn't careful, what little control this girl had would snap and Raven herself would end up on the receiving end of her brutal weapon. She raised her hands, trying to show that she had no intention of provoking the girl.

With a steady voice, Raven spoke. "I'm just here to talk, Ruby."

Thump, thump, thump. My heartbeat drummed loudly in my chest, drowning out the bloody dripping noise falling from overhead. There were so many bodies, so many body parts, and the place reeked of blood; my handiwork. But it wasn't enough. It had been too long since the last time, and soon it would start again.

I began to itch the base of my neck; it had already started, it seemed, and soon it would be painful shocks instead of annoying itching. I hope I'm lucky enough to get at least a few days of reprieve before my food started tasting like ash; once that started the sleepless nights would rear their ugly heads.

I needed to find another criminal group before it gets that bad. If I take too long, I may snap and end up killing innocent people; I can't handle that. The only thing keeping me from ending my suffering is the thought that I'm saving many more lives indirectly than I take, punishing those that haven't been caught by the law. If I reach such a point, then…

The sound of crashing wood interrupted my thoughts. Someone had kicked through the door. Good; hopefully it's some more White Fang. I need a release!

The wood overhead was warping under the trail of a single person. Shame its only one. Hopefully, whoever this newcomer is, they can at least hold a weapon instead of screaming and running away like these cowards.

The basement door grated open, and the unknown person began walking down the steps. My adrenalin increased at the prospect of fighting again, and the irritation at the base of my skull lessened at the mere thought of rending this stranger with my axe. Or, if need be, my hands and teeth. It didn't matter how I did it. All that mattered was that I let loose!

The stranger suddenly turned on a flashlight. The fact that they did so without any shaking movements, or that they could stomach the rest of the house, proved promising for a possible fighter. With a click, the appliance turned on.

As soon as I saw her, my blood boiled with furry! That woman—that face! My vision became tinted red and a surge of anger-fueled adrenaline filled my body. I could feel myself becoming redder and redder as my mind was engulfed in sheer rage, like all I wanted to do was to slam my fists into the woman's skull until something reduced to bloody mush—

NO! I need to calm myself down. I can't let myself go nuts...

Why did it was it her? Why did it have to be Raven Branwen of all people? I quickly clasped my hands together tightly in my lap, my arms shaking from the amount of strain they were under. My white knuckles were a testament to that.

"I'm just here to talk, Ruby," she said defensively. My last shred of consciousness snapped with the simple sentence. I leaped from my seat and charged, screaming at the top of my lungs. My sudden lunge must have her off guard, because I was able to tackle her to the red floor with ease, making a small splash.

I raised my right fist.

"DIE!"

I punched her face. Then again with my left fist. And again. And again. My strikes were too fast and forceful for her to get a chance to speak. After five punches, Raven was out cold. After another five hits her jaw was broken. Ten more and her nose was completely flattened into a bloody mess. By the fiftieth punch, Raven's face had been ground into minute pieces of skull and mushy gray matter, but it still wasn't enough!

I raised my hands to start once more, but I seized.

"Ruby?"

Ruby's silver eyes suddenly opened. She was back in the gore-slick basement, sweat covering her face. Her entire body was trembling, shaking with excess energy.

"Ruby!" Raven shouted at her. Ruby looked up at the woman, still somewhat confused about what was happening. The sitting girl ignored the woman with the flashlight, simply looking around the dark and bloody basement, still trying to gain her bearings. She suddenly stood.

Raven flinched at the abrupt movement, but still kept herself calm and controlled. Raven watched the red-stained girl as she steadily walked around her, not bothering to avoid the various mangled body parts; stepping on them like mere objects. Ruby wasn't coming to her, she was heading towards—

Raven's hand reached for the hilt of her sword and readied herself to draw in an instant. Ruby had walked to her weapon: the gore-covered axe. Despite its sheer size and weight, the weapon lifted by Ruby with no discernible effort, despite her small body.

"Why are you here, Raven?" Ruby spoke her first sentence; her voice calm and stoic, devoid of any perceivable emotion. Her grip tightened around the cloth-wrapped handle of her brutal weapon. "Answer me now, or end up in pieces," she spoke coldly.

Raven gulped down a breath of air, never taking her hand off her weapon. "I'm here to give you an opportunity. I'm well aware of your...condition, and I think I have a solution that could help both of us."

Silence, dead silence was all Raven got in response from Ruby, who stood unmoving. "Well? Are you interested in hearing my proposition?"

Without any hint or warning, Ruby suddenly jerked. Her axe raised as she charged at Raven, eyes burning with unfettered anger as she bellowed like a mad beast. Raven cursed and pulled her crimson-red sword from her mechanical sheath. The two clashed, the force of their weapons sending out a shockwave that rippled the bloody floor upon impact.

Ruby roared her response, like a frothing berserker.

"DIE!"

(End of Chapter Zero)

Author's Notes: Due to this being an introductory/setup chapter, its is quite a bit smaller than the regular word count I have in mind for all of my stories, which is between 5k-7k. Also, don't expect a regimented update schedule; I have a hard enough time keeping the number of stories I'm working on at the same time under twenty (currently fifteen, if you're curious). So just keep that in mind.