RWBY Red Russian Roulette
Take a breath. Calm yourself. Take the gun. Count to three. Pass the test. Pull the trigger. After a war that left the world in ruins, members of Team RWBY place their lives on a spinning barrel. After all, it seems to be the only fair way of inflicting appropriate punishment. So just pull the trigger.
Me - Right at the junction and Vale maximum security prison. I've completely forgotten why I thought asking him to do this was a good idea. Anyways, I do not own RWBY or any of its characters. All rights to RWBY belong to their respective owners.
Chapter 1 - Runaway
Adam Taurus. He was leader of the radical Faunus organization known as the White Fang and led an insurrection that started a world war. His criminal record was extensive. His trial was quick. His sentence, that remains to be seen, although there was little doubt that it will be death. Now he sat, tied to a metal chair, in a darkened room, and flanked by guards. A pair of aura restricting cuffs placed on him. They were a gift from the Schnee dust company as an ironic twist.
The door opened, slowly, and creaking. A figure, black and white, with heels clicking, stepped into the room. A tip of the head signaled the guards. Out. The pair looked at each other, unsure, hesitant to obey. She gave a tongue click in anger. The guards stiffened and quickly made their way out of the room, closing the door with that same creakiness as it was opened with behind them.
"My cat has come to visit." Adam spoke in a low voice with a hint of superiority, or whatever superiority was left.
Ears twitched in annoyance. That is all he is now. An annoyance. A lingering footnote that needs to be taken care of. One last gamble to clean house.
"Darling..." she flinched at the nickname, ever so slightly. "How are you? I hear you were the only one to make it without any... permanent damage."
It was true. Through what ended up being a world war followed by a Grimm invasion, she had somehow made it through relatively unscathed.
Yang had...
lost her right arm.
Ruby was...
blind in her left eye.
Weiss was...
safe and sound in her own bed in atlas...
due to her being in a coma.
Blake was the only one more or less physically fine. Mentally, well, we're about to see.
She slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out the reason why she was here. With a soft clink, a revolver was placed in the middle of the table. The only light in the room gave a sickening shine to it.
Adam smirked. "Come to kill me, darling?"
Blake took a trembling breath. Nerves slowly stilled. "No. I'm here to play a game."
Adams eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's stopping me from killing you with it?"
Blake kept her breath as still as possible. "You."
Adam smirked again. She was right. Killing her would be too easy. No, seeing the fear, the sheer terror of her killing herself, knowing that if she dies, he can, just maybe, escape. "And how am I supposed to play while being cuffed to the chair?"
As if on cue, the magnetic restraints turned off. His hands, once cuffed to the chair, were now free. He rubbed his hands together as blood slowly returned to them. He picked up the revolver as if it was a toy and aimed it straight at Blake's head. Blake stilled. Her heart pounded a little faster but she made no effort to move. Calm. The appearance of calm. Adam smirked and popped the cylinder to the revolver. Easily spinning and popping it back in with one hand, he brought it up and placed it against his temple. With cool confidence, he pulled the trigger.
-click-
With equally cool confidence, he placed the revolver back onto the table and slid it across. Blake tried to keep a still hand as she picked up said gun and popped the cylinder. She confirmed what she thought, a single round inside, currently in the 6 o'clock position. She spun the cylinder and popped it back in. With a deep breath she brought the weapon and placed it against her temple.
Adam leaned back. "So, how's your partner's arm?"
Blake suddenly sucked in a gasp of air as memories flashed before her eyes.
...
Blake was laying pain as she stared up at the sky. Her aura had been all but depleted and her entire body ached but she didn't give it a second thought. She couldn't. She glanced to her side only to feel more tears run down her face. Lying next to her was her unconscious partner, Yang. A bloody bandaged stub was all that remained of her right arm. Blake strained to look away as she wiped the trails of tears rolling down her face. She felt guilt in the pit of her stomach. It was her fault. It was her fault for being unable to stop Adam. It was because of her Yang charged in to fight Adam. And, it was because of her, that Adam had sliced of Yang's arm in one clean stroke. It was to get to her. Blake rolled back over to look at her partner. She knew she couldn't stay. Yang wouldn't forgive her. Not after what had happened. She had to run.
"I'm sorry."
Tears were beginning to fill her eyes again. Blake reached over and grabbed Yang's hand, her only hand. She curled up and squeezed her eyes shut.
"I'm so sorry."
...
She pulls the trigger.
-click-
With a deep exhale she dropped the gun back onto the table and slid it across. Again with cool confidence, Adam spun the cylinder and placed the muzzle to his temple. "I see I hit nerve." He pulls the trigger.
-click-
The gun easily slid back across the table. Blake looked down at it for a second with what observers could only describe as morbid fascination. Again with struggling effort to still her trembling hand, she picked up the weapon, spun the cylinder and steeled herself as she brought it up against her temple. She felt the weight in her hand and now felt it as the weight of the game. He was playing the game. She was playing the game.
Adam remembered a familiar line. "An eye... for an eye..."
Memories again flashed before her eyes.
...
She looked into the hospital room through the hallway window. Blake felt practically nauseous as she stared at who was once the leader of her team. She was still laughing and smiling as she talked to her sister but it sickened Blake all the more. The bandages covered the left side of ruby's face. She wanted to vomit. The glint of metal from yang's new artificial arm made Blake felt dizzy and faint. She would've nearly collapsed had it not been for Weiss's hand on her shoulder.
"Blake." She spoke in a cool whisper that chilled Blake's spine.
Blake steadied against a railing. "How bad?"
"She's blind in her left eye." Weiss responded in kind and looked inside the room. "The rest of Team JNPR got her here." She grimaced out how calm and carefree Ruby seemed to be despite what had happened.
Blake looked down at her hands. "I should've been there." She gripped the railing tightly as she looked back into the room. Her eyes locked with Yang's.
Weiss tightened her grip on Blake's shoulder. "She… hasn't forgiven you for…"
Blake interrupted. "She shouldn't…"
Yang stood up and quickly made her way over the window. Blake caught a surprised look on Ruby's face. Yang, with a frown on her face, pulls the cord to close the blinds.
...
She pulls...
-click-
Blake exhaled the breath she didn't know she was holding in. "Where did you…"
Her hand now visibly trembling, she placed the gun onto the table, and slid it back over. Adam picked up the revolver and casually spun the cylinder.
"From an acquaintance." Adam smirked. "Why play?" He questioned.
Blake was taken slightly off guard by the question. A hundred thoughts ran through her mind as she came up with an answer. "Because, I've lost nothing. A war that hurt and killed so many and I succeeded in running away from any punishment I deserve. I should at least make sure you don't get away."
"And if you die?" Adam spoke as he brought the barrel to his temple in cool confidence.
"Then I get what I deserve, my punishment." Blake spoke barely above a whisper.
He pulls the trigger.
-click-
With one easy motion, Adam slid the revolver back across the table. Blake's hand was trembling. She no longer denied it. Her hand was shaking. She reached for the gun and placed her hand over it only to find it didn't have enough strength to lift it.
Adam grinned as he spoke. "Thinking about running away?"
Suddenly her hand was in a death grip around the revolver. She was sure she was hyperventilating. Her heart pounded and felt like it would leap out of her chest. She felt dizzy with swirling thoughts spinning through her head. To her surprise, one word emanated above all the others.
"Yes."
Her short breaths stopped. Her hand stopped trembling. She lifted the gun and it felt as light as a feather. She slid her other hand easily over the cylinder and spun. Then she pressed the barrel against her temple. She let out a long drawn breath and looked across the table. Across the table was Adam. This time, he was silent. And it was this time that she realized, was the first time she had looked him in the face. This time she realized, she was fighting him, not the gun. She felt her finger ghost over the trigger and a memory flashed before her. How he got caught. How he ended up here. How they ended up playing this game.
...
The once proud academy of Atlas, the HQ of Atlesian military might, was now in chaos. The White Fang were rolling through the academy slaughtering anyone who stood in their way. Practically nobody could since at the head of the pack was him.
"Weiss, we need to pull back." Blake tried pulling the heiress to turn and run.
Weiss was catatonic. As her friends were dropping one by one all around, there was a sense of... Déjà vu. Blake was pulling on her to get her to move but she refused to budge.
"No." Weiss stood her ground.
"Weiss it's him. We can't..." Blake pleaded.
"No."
"What?"
"No more running. No more retreating. I'm defending my home and my friends."
With those last words, Weiss stepped forward. Blake... well... she turned and ran.
When the dust settled, Blake came back, expecting the worst. Towers of ice crystals were all around her. As she made her way to the epicenter, she saw him. There he was, one of the most dangerous men in the world, helpless. He was entirely incased in ice, unable to move and knocked out cold.
Weiss had paid dearly for it. They rushed her to the nearest hospital. She was cold. Far too cold. The doctor only said one word. The rest was left unspoken. "Coma." We don't know if she'll wake up.
Her fingers felt raw and cold as it all faded. Nevertheless they moved effortlessly.
...
She...
-click-
As light as a feather, the gun was placed back onto the table. It practically flew across the table.
That cool confidence was still visible as Adam easily spun the cylinder. "Are you happy?"
"Yes."
He placed the muzzle to his temple and could've sworn he saw three of her in each eye. A low growl came from his throat.
"I still won."
-BANG-
Blake should've flinched when it finally happened. Oddly, she was still. Very still. In front of her was now a body with a mixture of colors red and pink. Her ears were ringing in pain. The smell of rust was now assaulting her nose. She licked her dry lips only to have an iron taste in her mouth. She could feel the splattered blood slowly rolling down her cheek.
Her legs ached as she finally stood up. The chair slid out easily underneath her. She turned and walked, heels clicking once more, door creaking once more, out the door once more. One last thought flashed before her.
"Run."
Inspired by the song Russian Roulette - Rihanna