A/N: Hello everyone. This is my first piece on this website, and it's mainly going to be just for practice, but that doesn't mean I won't put effort into it. I've been a fan of RWBY for a while but with Volume 4 currently underway, I was inspired to write something for it.
My first attempts were not...something I was proud of. But maybe that was because I was taking them too seriously. This here? This is really something just for fun, inspired by both RWBY and Bloodborne.
That being said, this is NOT a direct cross-over. By that, I mean the Bloodborne universe is not colliding with the RWBY universe. There will be similar elements and names, but they have different history and different reasons to exist. In terms of tone, I'll be trying not to overwhelm the story in seriousness. I'm using a T rating, but depending on how things go, it might change. I'm not going to be focusing on any specific pairing, and will be attempting to stick as close as I can to canon relationships between characters. That said...I am somewhat partial to Lancaster... :)
Anyway, I'll try not to bore you any longer. This story is set after Volume 2, but before the Vytal Festival in Volume 3. Oh, and if anyone is interested, even though I do look over this and edit things beforehand, I don't have a beta (yet), so keep that in mind.
With all that said, please enjoy.
Prologue
Purple crystal and red sky passed by her as she moved, a black form gliding over the rugged, torn earth. Pools of viscous liquid bubbled and pulsed, breaking as clawed limbs rose from their depths. All around her, they ascended, her creatures of darkness. Her creatures of Grimm. Beowolves and Ursi. Griffons and Creeps.
It was not enough.
Salem frowned, bending down to inspect a pool. She dipped a hand in gingerly, ignoring the creature still emerging from within. Her frown deepened. It was cold. Not freezing, but far below the incubation temperatures she had set. The Grimm were no longer reproducing as they should have been...and no-one else had the power to affect their birth. Something was wrong.
She stood, making her way towards her overlook. Aside from the tower, the clifftop was the most favourable location to survey her realm. Yet even as she beheld the luminescence of the shattered moon, a twinge of confusion continued to prod at her mind. The sea of black that met her gaze only served to enhance her disarray.
The gathered Grimm at the base of the peak could not have numbered more than several hundred, at most. And she was certain that it was not mere Huntsmen and Huntresses who had reduced them to such a size. Where were her armies, her continent-conquering beasts? Who could have tampered with her birthing pools, enough to stall the production of the Grimm to such an extent?
Ozpin?
Salem dismissed the thought. He was not one to act directly, that much she knew. But if not him, then who else? With no answer, she turned to the sky.
And froze.
The moon, the broken white moon, its fragments drifting behind it in a trail. The ever-present light amidst her blighted sky.
It was whole.
She blinked. No. It couldn't be. Had she not seen it mere moments ago? A shattered moon it had been, and shattered it should have stayed. And yet, it was not. Its round form hung motionless, unchanging for far too long to be a simple illusion. Salem narrowed her eyes. The buzzing in her mind rose to a shrill screech.
...What?
She clasped her hands over her ears. The buzzing? Since when had she begun to hear the noise? The screeching, the unholy wailing in her head—it overwhelmed all other traces of sound. Everywhere, from all directions, the cry droned on, drowning out sensation with every second passed. She grit her teeth, a flood of anger overtaking irritation and pain. And then she gazed up. And she stared.
The moon, the full moon, rippled across the sky, a veil distorting its form like the heat rising from a flame. White and yellow faded away, leaving colourless grey rock in its wake. Salem did not move. For a second, she wondered if that was all to the display. Then cold red enveloped the celestial stone. The screeching disappeared. Her eyes went wide.
Paleblood.
The world disappeared.
