A New Role:

Prologue:

Somewhere in eastern Manchester, a young man was running for his life.

Jake cursed RWBY under his breath every time his foot hit the pavement. It was that stupid show which had caused his life to start falling to pieces. Sure it hadn't started off like that, after watching the show he was only making a blog post here, or a role-play invite there. But given time Jake became more and more involved in the fandom. To the point that merchandise found itself plastered all over his room. The young man's addiction seemed harmless enough at the time. Even if his work sometimes took a hit, and consequently the week's pay check. Things were chaotic, but that was something he could live with.

Until the blog post showed up.

At first Jake simply ignored it, chalking up its cryptic and bizarre phrasing to one of the many nutcases that lurked the internet. But later on, that same post appeared again. And again. And again. Every time he checked his feed, it would reappear. To the point where it started showing itself on every account he had. Facebook. Twitter. Instagram. Tumblr. Even Pinterest. It even evolved to take over every monitor Jake looked at, even the ones that weren't his. The post seemed to stalk the man wherever he went, like a hunter closing in for the kill.

As its appearances continued to escalate, Jake became more and more paranoid. Several months of paranoia caused him to try and jump off the grid entirely, destroying any and all connections he had to the internet. Dumping his phone, tablet, TV. Everything he possibly could to try and avoid that parasitic post. But his life's downward spiral wouldn't stop there. Within days of jumping off the grid, the young man started to develop a strange feeling that he was being watched. Like a pair of eyes trying to burn their way into his skull. Yet every time he turned around they were gone. Only a bustling crowd or desolate street behind him.

Jake told anyone who was willing to listen. Yet he'd either been laughed at, or referred to one of the many psychologists who would pick details from his story. It didn't help that every time he tried to show someone the post, it decided at that moment to disappear. Making him look crazy, too obsessed for his own good. Yet it only devolved more and more as time passed. The 'stalker sense' he'd slowly developed kept coming back more and more. Mostly in public, sometimes in private. Whatever was triggering it kept growing bolder with each passing day, devolving any semblance of order or joy Jake had left.

None of that could compare to the eighteenth of May, though. Jake's last night on Earth.

He'd been convinced to hang at a bar by several of his colleagues. At least the few who weren't convinced that he was going crazy. They danced a little. Drunk a few beers. Kicked back as life carried on around them. It was honestly a relief. For once Jake didn't constantly have to look over his shoulder. He even started to lose track of the time, not constantly having to keep his eyes glued to their surroundings. Until in a drunken state he took a brief glance at his watch, and Jake's blood ran cold seeing the time was well past midnight.

His paranoia and drunken state taking over, Jake jumped to his feet off the bar stool, sending it crashing down with a clatter as he rushed out of the bar. Not bothering to give his bewildered friends the same explanation he'd grown tired of telling. He ran and ran. Not even bothering to consider which direction he was heading. Running through the dark streets until he finally came to a stop. Not outside his cheap and cheerful flat, like his sober self would have, but instead right before the local church's doorstep of all places.

He'd unknowingly bolted through the single path in and out of the churchyard, the clearing outside the doors barely illuminated by a small yellow light on the church's wall. The July winds blew through the surrounding grass, giving off a foreboding whistle like nature itself heralded a threat's imminent arrival. The chilling atmosphere didn't help to cool Jake's nerves, as it whipped past his face like a thousand tiny knifes, turning his cheeks and fingers numb.

Jake hadn't carried out his faith in years, only praying as a child to try and please his tight-fisted mother. Yet right then and there, the man dropped to his knees like a tonne of bricks, holding his head down and hands together in prayer. A small part of his soul begged for a miracle, hoping for a small sliver of hope amidst the deteriorating spectacle that was his existence. The ice cold atmosphere chilled his shaky breaths to fog, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

And like a God forsaken omen, he once again felt that scorching burn on the back of his skull, though it provided him no warmth. It had grown stronger since he'd last felt it. Much... Much stronger. To the point it threatened to create two eye-sized holes through Jake's brain

He swiveled on the balls of his feet, turning away from the bolted church doors, and rose to his feet staring back down the path that had led him there. And found himself staggering back as he bore witness to a strange, stationary figure. Reaching over two meters tall, easily. The entity's head was covered in a pitch black hood, its face obscured from the world around them. Though the creature's hands poked out of his dark cloak's sleeves covered entirely in bandages. Patches of red and black broke the pure white in several places. It made no movement towards him. Not a sound escaped its lips. Standing still like a statue, all but his flowing cloak was stationary. Like he'd been carved from stone.

"Wh-Who are you?" Jake asked the strange figure. His voice horse, breathing ragged. Sweat gathered in his palms as Jake's eyes darted around looking for a clear escape. Any escape. Only to see every route open was either filled with roots or numerous gravestones. Save for a single path, directly behind the stranger.

"That doesn't matter to you. You are simply prey. A hunter doesn't tell his next meal why he must eat." A deep voice growled from beneath the hood. Causing more shivers to run across Jake's skin, though not from any wind or cold. Before the strange entity continued. "He tried to save you. And still tries to save several like you. But you wouldn't let that happen. And now, instead of him, it's me you shall face."

Before Jake could even ponder the figure's words, he became frozen in place as drops of near-black blood started flowing down one of the creature's arms. Travelling down the bandage grooves like streams, the demonic liquid gathered in his right palm. Hundreds of droplets slowly took form. Clumping together and compressing into solid fragments. It started as a mere handle. Then a small staff. Which grew longer and longer, sprouting a blackened blade from its tip. Until in the span of a few seconds, the figure had summoned a fully built scythe in its hand.

Jake was paralyzed in place. The cold practically in existent, and any hope of sanctuary shattered in his mind and heart. The horrible reality he faced slowly dawned on the man, as he faced the grim figure. In that moment he knew there was no chance of him leaving alive.

The figure took a step towards him.

Jake suddenly broke out of his self-imposed stupor and started hammering on the church doors. Thumping against the hard oak while trying to ignore the burning red marks slowly appearing on the bottom of his fists. He crashed against the door again and again. Ignoring the small voice that knew no-one was coming to save him. Whoever, or rather whatever, that thing was would soon enough have undisputed claim over his corpse.

The figure took another step.

Jake kept hammering, hyperventilating uncontrollably. He wasn't made for fighting. Couldn't last ten seconds against even an ordinary person, much less whatever that monster was. He desperately threw his fists at the door, screaming his voice dry for help. Not even looking to see if anyone heard. Only focusing on the building fear and dread slowly climaxing in his chest.

The figure took a third step.

Jake turned back towards his soon to be killer. His cheeks wet with tears as he bawled at the creature's feet. Putting his bloodied hands before his face in surrender, ignoring the stabbing rocks attacking his knees. "Please! I've done nothing to you!" He cried out pathetically at the ghostly abnormal, unable to stop himself quivering as he shook and quivered before the monster's non existent mercy. "I don't- I don't wanna die! PLEASE!" Jake begged one last time. Covering his face with bloodied hands, not caring for the crimson red marks that slathered around his eyes.

For several moments, all that could be heard was the still wailing winds enveloping the churchyard. Alongside Jake's screaming breakdown, begging for mercy as he wept into his hands.

The figure took its final step.

And the screams were silenced.

Lee considered himself one of the brighter students attending Price academy. Granted, he didn't carry a degree through the door every other month like some students seemed to. But he was still more gifted in his studies than most. Luckily not inhibited by his late nights and RWBY binge watches. That his teachers saw as nothing more than distractions. Yet to Lee, the show would take center stage every time he walked out the building.

He wasn't the most outgoing person, but could still hold a polite conversation in public. And considering he held a few companions scattered here and there, people thought socializing wasn't an issue for him. Yet behind his low smile and light blue eyes, Lee was less than confident in his abilities. The majority of his friends (sans one), practically never talked to him (save for the occasional 'hi' in the hallway).

Even though he kept telling his parents there were plenty of friends beside him, the untold truth was he felt... lonely. Day-to-day life was usually just the same routine. Walk in, sit down, try to learn, walk out again. If he was lucky, a guy or girl would sometimes strike up a conversation. But even including that, Lee's day would still be infested with apathy.

One such Friday, the teen had gone home on what should have been the best night of the week. Yet instead he'd just walked through the door, ignored the unbearable silence of an empty house, and set himself up in his room for a night of blogging and show binges. To anyone else that would have sounded like fun. It should've been fun. But Lee just couldn't enjoy himself like he had once upon a time.

It wasn't enough to have a constant stream of media playing on his lap. Lee wanted to be with someone. Anyone. Even if only to share the loneliness.

Dissatisfied, Lee paused the RWBY episode playing on his laptop, and opened a window to Tumblr. Hoping to find something there. He browsed the website's feed. Found nothing. Continued to browse, and yet still he still found nothing that gave him more than a brief spurt of happiness. He considered just giving up as he glanced at the laptop's clock reading close to midnight. He took one more glance at his feed, already preparing to detach and leave the internet behind.

That's when he saw the post.

What had been pointless browsing, finally yielded something. A small post, detailing a role-play invite, not too flashy or in your face. Seemingly simple enough. Though as Lee checked through its contents, the details it was giving him were basic at best and downright cryptic at worst.

Retsam emit stnanmer:
I'm on the lookout for four RWBY role-player's to go through an adventure I've been working on.

You'll need an OC, fairly original and relatively balanced (don't god-mode or make a Mary/Gary sue and I'll allow it).

Get a name, species, reputation, friends/enemies, strength's/weaknesses, a semblance, weapon(s), and optional trivia.

Send me a message and I'll invite you to a Facebook group. From there, you'll be sent the address in Manchester for the event.

(If you can't make it there, then ignore this post.)

Think carefully before you do this.

The post just seemed... Wrong. The lack of stat control, usual rules being non-existent. Even the username seemed off. It was also odd that it so heavily insisted on them showing up in person. If this guy/girl was set on it being an in-person role-play, they shouldn't have posted it so randomly on Tumblr. Or, at the very least, added a few hashtags so people would be able to find it easier.

Yet that last line. Cryptic and creepy, not something any sane person would post on a request. There was a small chance he/she had simply gotten too into the role-play side of things. It would at least explain why they'd left out the finer details. Though Lee couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that it would hold more trouble than it was worth.

He considered just closing the browser. It looked too sketchy for his tastes, and probably wasn't worth the risk. Yet, before he erased the window's contents, he couldn't help but let the inevitable 'what if it's worth it' thought slip in. It was only a near-silent whisper, from somewhere in Lee's mind the teen hadn't even known about. Yet it grew louder and louder. Until before he could stop himself, Lee was opening a message window and telling the user of his interest. It was bold. Risky. And a little stupid. But for once, Lee didn't care.

He was sick of feeling so empty. All the time. If he needed to take a risk here and there to make some friends, real friends, then he could accept that.

Within minutes he received a reply.

To:
C00ki3_destr0y3r

From:
Retsam emit stnanmer

Subject:
The Roleplay (RE)

Six PM. Sunday night. 20th of this month. M23 ****. Bring an OC. Don't be late.

Once again, the user had remained cryptic and straightforward. Exactly like the initial post, but Lee could work with that. He closed the window and opened a fresh browser. He started by looking up the address. Leading him to an outside view of a game workshop. Usually home to War-hammer and D&D fans. Not to mention it was just down the street from the shopping center. Definitely a good sign, considering if there was any funny business he wouldn't have chosen somewhere so densely populated.

Running off his good luck streak, Lee started doing some research on his mysterious 'host'. The brunet looked back to the Tumblr account. Only to find it completely empty, even of the post Lee knew he'd seen ten minutes prior. Slightly panicking, Lee opened the laptop's browser history, hoping to retrace his steps back to the escaping post. Only to find a convenient gap between the post prior the request, and the maps page from afterwards.

For a moment, Lee thought he was going crazy. But then he recalled something along the lines of a Facebook post. He opened yet another browser, frantically slamming his fingers down on the keyboard until his homepage came into view. Looking no different than usual. Until he noticed the group notification in the top right corner. He hesitantly clicked on the picture-less post, leading the screen to an unsurprisingly bland group page. Showing five members and only two posts.

One was his own name, C00ki3_destr0y3r (never make usernames when hungry). Another was the group's creator, the same name as that elusive Tumblr URL. He considered looking further, but simply reasoned that it would probably be as fruitless as his previous attempt.

He instead looked at the other three. Leaning towards the screen, an aging chair's 'squeak' echoing along in the background, Lee looked to see the three's profile pictures looked relatively normal. At least compared to 'Retsam', whoever he/she was.

All three were girls. Strange as it was, not something he would have thought unlikely. One appeared to be around his age, close to graduating college while the other two looked slightly older. Probably a year or two out of education. The younger of the three had pale white skin, short chestnut hair in a simple pixie cut, with light hazel eyes. Smiling sweetly at the camera, leaning against a nearby tree. Giving off an aura of happiness.

The second appeared much more outgoing than the others, holding a cocktail loosely in her right hand as she looked to the left at the camera. He could guess it was a bar, judging from the dilating pupils in her green eyes. She had tan skin, and shoulder-length amber brown hair. A party-goer wouldn't be what most people would think of in terms of RWBY fans. Then again, looks could always be deceiving.

The final girl seemed... Almost sad. Unlike the others, her smile seemed more forced. And her copper eyes didn't hold much joy to them. Granted he could only see one of presumably two, as the other was hidden behind several locks of curly, ginger hair. She appeared to be in a small bedroom, a single bed with crisp white sheets. A laptop on the desk beside it. Most likely an introvert, the same as himself.

An interesting ensemble. Strange, for sure, but definitely interesting.

He tore his gaze away from the profile pictures, looking down at the two posts hanging below. The pinned post was an iteration of Retsam's email. Simply stating the time, place, OC requirement, and a reminder to turn up on time. A little controlling, but after the bizarre night's turn, Lee simply chalked it up to another of the stranger's habits.

The second post was interesting, however, as it was sent by the second girl in the group instead of their strange organizer.

Dana Amberprice:

Hello there!

Wondering if any of you wanted to meet around five tomorrow? Maybe get to know each other a little better, and work up a team name!

I know an Italian café called Mutatio, pretty close to the game store. M23 ****. I can pay, if needs be.

Sound like fun?

Now this. This is Lee's mind was closer to reality. At least she wasn't acting like the world was on the brink of collapse, unlike a certain someone.

He quickly replied, with a simple 'sounds cool, I'll be there'. Trying not to come off as too desperate. He noted down the address, put his wallet and a pair of fresh jeans on the side for the next day. Yet before he shut down the laptop, the thought occurred that he should recheck his plans for the weekend. Or lack thereof, just in case.

He opened his calendar, and as luck would have it, the weekend would be its usual boring schedule. His Father worked 9 PM to 7 AM all weekend, sleeping between shifts. While his mother would be in London for another of her last-minute business trips. And because Lee had nothing planned (as standard), there was nothing stopping him from going to the city.

Within minutes Lee changed into his night clothes, feeling worlds better than for most of the month. And took one last look at the group page before heading to bed. Noting two new additions. One for each of the previously silent girls.

Jane Thrush:

Sounds lovely! I'll meet you all there!

Kim Diana:

Ok. See you.

He let slip a small smile, one of the genuine first for that week, before shutting down the laptop and placing it back in a brown canvas case. Come morning, he'd most likely head downtown, find the café early and finish up a frame for his once abandoned OC. It had been a good few months since his last role-play, and even longer since he'd made something original that he'd taken pride in making. Yet Lee remained confident for the most part.

After all, what's the worst that could happen in a role-play?

A/N: Just a heads up to anyone actually reading this story, there may be some time between updates. With both writers block and college being typical themes for me. That being said, hope to see you next time!