Prelude for the Sequel to The Blackened Decaying Rose by Spartan13047. Check it out before reading this. Thanks to Spartan for letting me do this.
watch?v=WHKQ7ZE9pvw
Theme song for this story above. The Memory Remains, Metallica.
Blood!
Blood, Guts, Brains, Gore!
But mostly just blood.
It was all that painted the once shiny metal floor of Beacons great fountain, and made the once fresh water now undrinkable. The water and floor could be cleaned, but what remained in the memory will never surpass.
Wounds heal.
Scars fade.
But Trauma, mind or body, remains for life and onward.
Oh if only it was just a dream.
Well, at the start, it kinda was. It began as a dream for one individual, just one that passed on to a few others. A snow queen, a white mistress if you wish, had one wish that would not only come back to bite her... but everyone else involved. Innocent or otherwise.
The dream had become reality at the start of the journey. It was simple, though not quick nor painless for the victim.
Yet simple.
She had it all planned out. Her accomplices would distract the only real threat to her plan, while she initiated her betrayal and finished the bane of her existence. But not before making her target suffer as long as possible before delivering the final blow. Tearing out the muscles, breaking the bones and crushing the organs. Severing the nerves, but not enough, for her victim could still feel the pain of every stab and every blow.
No matter how much her prey begged, she wouldn't stop.
The final strike, from the inside out the body burned to a crisp.
The deed was done, the memory buried and the blood washed away. Weeping and sorrow followed the loss of the poor, innocent girl. Family and friends alike wished for nothing more than the return of their companion. But wishes aren't granted on a whim. If they were, imagine how many loved ones would have been returned.
The remains were never found, not even the blood red cape that was always tied around the fatalities neck. Not a bone or blade, not an eye or a cap. Seems as though the body had simply, vanished without a trace. Yet it wasn't surprising when no one bothered to search for the body that may or may not existed. But lets be honest. How many would search in a Grimm filled forest, with no witnesses to the death, and no actual proof of the killers.
Those responsible moved on, doing what they wished, when they wished, how they wished. But what they for sure didn't wish, was an untimely death.
And that's exactly what happened. But not before the leader of the group began to suffer. Long before the death of one of the accomplices, she began to lose her grip on what was reality, and what was myth.
Her fortune had become reality, but her mirror image was vain. She tried to forget about her deed and move on. The ice queen went through a stage of denial, depression, maybe insanity.
But one thing was for sure.
No matter how hard she tried, or how much she wanted to forget. The memory remained.
And so it stayed until it finally came back to haunt, stalk, tease and torture her mind. The fortress of her brain had been broken and she snapped. Her secrets revealed from her own mouth. Her depression worsened and her friends left her.
Meanwhile, those who had helped her with the dirty deed had all fallen. One by one, they became prey to an unseen force that was bent on vengeance. Vengeance that was directed with precision and well planned out tactics. All them, head to toe were covered in blood.
All except one, who lived to see the next day, and so on. But in a psychological prison, they remained forever tortured by the past. Forever heartbroken and yet, survived the days to come.
The same isn't said for the rest.
When it was over, and the henchmen, if you are nice enough to call them that, we're all out of the way. The time had come for the ice queen to meet her fate. Though say what you wish, the oppressor did what most would say, is overkill.
An attack, a siege on Beacon, leading up to one purpose. Find, torture, suffer and kill the target that started it all.
But, at what cost?
Those who knew well enough what was happening way before had never thought of such an attack. Especially from one who was once, so pure, so innocent. Tides were turned and relationships were threatened. Sibling on Sibling, friend on friend. Uncle on Niece.
But in the end, nothing would stop the vengeful oppressor from reaching their goal. When finally, revenge was in their grasp. And they took it. Took it to the limit, surpassed that limit and broke it again.
Until finally, just as nothing remained of the original attack, no trace of the ice remained. The victim had their victory. The smell of what remained of the Grimm, and the chaos they caused, still lingered even after the Red Reaper signaled for them to leave.
The bursts of tears and sorrow started with a death, returned with the reunion, stopped with the plan, and returned with another death.
In total, 5 people were brutally murdered in such a short amount of time. The ones who remained to tell the tale had nothing, or very little to say. After the passing of the black cloaked warrior, one of the witnesses refused to give in.
The death of the ice queen brought sorrow to even those whom had once called her names that shouldn't be said. As for the vengeful cloaked warrior, well, no one really knows what happened.
Some speculate they moved on to another life. Passing away in the mist. Others, like the skeptical scythe wielding warrior, who tried to solve the murder mystery, believe otherwise. Whether or not it's possible for one such as the reaper to still exist is questionable, but one things for sure.
The blood is washed, the funeral past and the tears wiped.
But the memory remains.
Hotel. Southern Beacon. Close to midnight.
Sitting at the edge of a table, or more so lying face first on it, an old Qrow is nearly passed out. A few bottles of whiskey and some cigars pellets were sitting loosely on the other side, one bottle held in his hand. The dusty old man had little to actually fight for.
Remnant was a big place, to big for one guy to guard single handedly. But not big enough for one man to search single handedly.
Three weeks.
Thats how much time has passed since the death of Weiss Shnee, and, the disappearance of his Niece. The victim of the horrible attack, Ruby Rose. But the last time he saw her, she was not the happy go lucky girl he knew all her life. She was different.
Bloodthirsty and hopped up on revenge. This, was not his niece. It couldn't be. But deep down, even in his drunken state, he knew that the little Rose was still out there. After the funeral, he'd been called in by Ozpin. The death of both Ruby and Weiss made him realize something.
If this, a young innocent girl, can be turned into a ruthless monster. Then anyone can. Tasked with finding out as much as possible, Qrow left and has been searching for answers. In any forms he could.
Yet he knew that only one piece of evidence was worth looking for.
Ruby!
If she was still out there. But Qrow has a feeling that even if she has moved on, it won't be long before she returns. Willingly or not.
To prevent future students becoming bloodthirsty, trained killers. Qrow wants to find the source of the change. The thing that turned his niece into a monster. He knew for one thing that Ruby was resurrected by something. What?, was a good question.
Why?, was another.
Two big questions, both with unexplainable answers. But those are just the kind that Qrow lives to solve. After all, if there's one person who can solve an unsolvable case. It was him.
If anyone could find Ruby, it was him.
But if he did find her, could be beat her? Or at least persuade her to cooperate. The last few times for both didn't work out so well. And the other question was if Ruby was still alive.
So many questions, very little answers.
Qrow clenched his beer bottle and sat up slowly as another dream awoke him. A recurring dream that began two weeks ago. Groaning the entire time while rubbing the back of his neck. No amount of alcohol would stall or divert this dream from its task.
Fluttering his eyes open, he looked at his bottle before setting it down. Groaning again, he rested his head on his arm. The smooth nighttime wind provided extra comfort as the hangover subsided.
" Then you have become my enemy!" Ruby's voice echoes in his dreams. The same tone each time, along with the later part of him losing his scythe. " Then you have... You have... My enemy!" Th voice played over and over as Qrow struggled to get comfortable.
" Ruby." He breathes out from his sleep like state. Knocking over a bottle that falls off the desk and shatters off the wooden floor. " ...wh... Where?" He asks himself over and over.
" ENEMY!" It certainly didn't help his already terrible sleeping problems.
" Ru... Don't d... I won..." He gasps as he takes a breath of air before drifting off for real. Leaving his active mind, alone and skeptical.
Chapter 2 coming soon.