Well, here's a remaster of the first fic in English and also on this site, that and it actually helped with my initial sleep issues and..also...when I was bored during studying, the original was written when I had..."bad" grammatical knowledge of English but now I think my grammatical knowledge can be considered above average, because the fact I can speak English means I'm better off already!
Yes I will be modifying the story a little bit but I don't think it will be affected too much by it, now that we have ALOT more information on Blake's background.
(And a few parts that I have theorised and am probably correct about because you can semi-predict the plot, I'm sure moviegoers know what I'm talking about, it's a common thing with people who are good at languages and writing I'm told.)
New information will allow me to improve on the detail of the backstory as well as side stories, since I re-read what I've done as well as my notes and research, I feel that the chapters are a little short.
This entire thing was remastered in the short time span of one and a half hours. Because my Tutor is an absolute boss and let me since it was relevant.
Anyway! Enjoy :)
Mandatory Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY, just the OC's; RWBY belongs to Rooster Teeth and Monty Oum. (Möge er Ruhe in der Umarmung der Götter finden.) If I did, I would include a rap battle at some point between everyone, freestyle or not...I should probably do that at some point in the future...*eyes and grin grow wide with mischief*
I would also release a World of Remnant episode on mythology and religions in the RWBY universe, since as someone who likes studying people and what makes them tick (which is basically everything), I would find it interesting.
Thoughts.
'emphasis,' "emphasis," or "emphasis."
'Quoting someone in the story.'
"Someone who isn't there but is speaking to someone...like telepathy or something."
Time-skips, everyone knows how much I love these.
"Normal Speech and FUS RO DAH." (Shouting for those of you who didn't get that. And if you didn't, shame on you. stop reading this and play Skyrim now, played it? Good, moving on.)
(Making an authors note during fic.)
The Grey box, as the man sitting in the centre of this room decided to call it, in the 2 minutes he was sat there for anyways, is as empty and as dull as watching grass grow.
Besides him, the room has two grey chairs and a grey table. The bare bone essentials that there could be in any room, anywhere. The man frowned and began drumming his fingers on the table to pass the time, finding the beat amusing as he thought up different songs, changing his drumming to match the beat of said songs, also starting to bob his head very slightly.
But he suddenly stopped this action as he could hear a door open close to the one he's sat close by, meaning his interrogator is here, and if his nose is telling him the truth, he's going to have fun with this one.
His boredom still wrapped around his face like a mask, the truth is however, is that in his clever mind, he would continue with a carefully laid out plan.
About 3 or 4 meters away from the bored man in the Grey box, General Ironwood is intrigued, or at least, he seemed intrigued, I don't know all his expressions look the same, except for the time there was a caption with his face stapled above it, it said 'Hi, I'm here to ruin everything.' Which I'm sure someone at some point has thought. (No? Well it's a meme now.)
"This is...interesting." General Ironwood spoke to himself as he read through the file of the very, 'interesting' student from Beacon who has been missing for a very, very long time and was arrested by Atlas security forces because of the following: 'Suspicion to harbouring and supporting a terrorist group.'
"Confiscated items include multiple weapons, some sort of extendable staff, two custom made katana with a complex inner working that fires pistol bullets with the power of a rifle, two custom made shotguns doubling as chainsaws and a very intriguing mask."
He looked up at the man behind the glass, he held a look in his eyes behind the boredom etched onto his expression, a look of knowing, knowing exactly what was about to happen, it honestly felt like he was the only person who wanted to be here despite everything his body language conveyed to Ironwood.
A Faunus if he recalled correctly is behind the glass window. One of his eyes red and the other, amber. Wearing a short skirted trench coat over an unzipped black leather jacket with a grey wool hood sewn into it along with a locket, not very formal, even though the way he sat said otherwise.
He sat as if he is in perfect control, knowing what to do, as if this is just a casual job interview or a game of poker. Hell, to the average soldier this guy would look like easy pickings, but not for Ironwood, because despite appearances this man is definitely a professional at the game of Hearts and Minds. He would not be fooled by anything.
He only wore one glove on his left hand, a basic grey glove with no special features, perhaps of psychological significance? He thinks to himself before examining the rest of him. Black jeans with no creases, none, not an inch, that showed one thing that most people who preferred order, like many military personnel, functionality. His boots, spotless, not even a dust particle exist on the black heavy duty steel toe capped boots with a glowing red X pattern on them.
A large enough stainless steel belt buckle with little to no shape to it besides what it was designed to do, the belt however could almost be described as a normal black belt, if it weren't for the glowing red double helix pattern.
The most interesting part of how he is dressed is the symbols that glow a faint red and give the effect as if they were moving. Kanji? That's curious, weren't there some Kanji symbols on the helmet we seized to? He spent the next couple of seconds recalling his ancient history classes and analysing the Kanji symbols on both the mask and the trench coat. "Fear, Balanced, Bloodshed and Forgive." Ironwood whispered to himself in an almost questioning manner. Perhaps something else related to his psych? Or maybe he has something else to hide?
Another thing that bothered the good general to no end, is that the individual he's about to interrogate didn't seem to exist. No file contained his name, his facial recognition turned up no results, neither did his blood work, other than something strange that the medical staff here are still deciphering, or anything at all. This man is a Ghost.
Despite everyone knowing his name.
"Trying to analyse the subject General?" He asked in an almost mocking tone, he knew exactly where Ironwood is stood and exactly who Ironwood is, despite there being a one way sheet of bulletproof glass between them. After two seconds of contemplating how to process that question, he decided to enter the room.
The distinguished General sat opposite the cat eared prisoner, both locking eyes, as if in a brutal war of attrition. And the General is losing, he may have had seemingly more years under his belt, but this man however obviously has much more experience than he does.
That, or he is a brilliant actor and the good general highly doubted the latter. Okay, you're good enough to make a spook I'll give you that. He cautiously thought to himself as he narrowed his eyes.
The General is the first to break the long and cold silence. "What's your name?" He asked in his usual no-nonsense tone. His reply was to simply dodge the question. "My name is irrelevant for the moment, General." He said in the calmest tone Ironwood had ever heard in this situation, but the General knew that there was a teasing tone behind that short and simple answer.
But that wasn't what was odd, it was as if he would've spat on the floor at the word 'General', maybe he thought he wasn't deserving of such a rank?
Alright then, I'll play your little game. He thought to himself, not only frustrated in knowing that he wouldn't be able to break this one, he's the literal definition of indestructible in this interrogation and as much as Ironwood hated to admit it, he has most of the cards. But that didn't make his 'calm and in control' demeanour change at all.
What really ground his gears was his earlier stunt and now, the fact that he has enough grounds to play ring-a-round a rosey with Ironwoods brain until they 'eventually' get what Ironwood wants or what this trench-coated individual wants. He hates stuff like this.
"Then tell me everything." The man opposite Ironwood raised an eyebrow slightly at that for less than a second, obviously not expecting this response so quickly.
"If you insist, then I'll tell you this story from the beginning, the relevant bits anyway, I don't want to bore you with details you're not interested in Woodie." He spoke with a small smirk forming on his lips. On the inside the General couldn't care less about a story, or the nickname, but it might give some insight on the current situation and possibly an advantage over the man in front of him so his decision was swift.
"Then I'll listen for the time being." Much to my annoyance. He thought directly afterwards.
5 Years earlier.
Thud, thud, thud. Is the only noise one would be able to hear outside of the beautiful bird song.
RAWR!
Okay, apparently I was wrong. "Okay, we have its attention now!" A man shouted to his partner anxiously. "I Love this plan!" The other man shouted gleefully in return.
Both of them bobbed and weaved between trees and branches alike, RAWR "It's getting closer!" The first man shouted frantically. "Can you two stop whining? Mute'll take care of it." As both the running men were about to respond, a black silhouette shot by them slamming into the Death Stalker's face.
Seconds after this, a girl rolled backwards and onto her feet, smiling at the now slightly defunct Death Stalker who was recovering from having something the weight of five anvils shoot into its face at fifty miles per hour without warning which is enough to make anyone dizzy to be honest.
It didn't get time to recover because seconds later as the two men that were running skidded to a halt, a shotgun with a rather large saw blade attached to it; shot by. Landing a perfect hit into the cracks in the Death Stalker's once flawless armour, the weapon carried enough force behind it to lodge itself underneath the skin.
To add insult to injury, the owner of said blade yanked the weapon in a certain way making it pull the trigger and what resulted, is the blade exploding out of the Death Stalkers head, leaving a grandiose hole where the face of the Death Stalker used to be.
The blade/explosive shotgun was promptly caught by its owner as he flicked it into the air by the bandages that tethered it to him, the material used to fling it at the Death Stalker now being wrapped around his wrist and up his arm again.
Said person looked at his two male teammates, bowing in a joking manner eliciting the other teammates to roll their eyes. "Well, now I know why Ozpin took you in originally, never seen a Death Stalker go down that quickly. Well done kid." The team leader said genuinely with a smile, he had a new found respect for the child, which became evident by his expression.
"Frames, it's nothing, Mute did the hard work..." The kid said with a nod to Mute. Mute however walked over to the pair of conversing men, since she couldn't speak, hence her nickname, she signed the words: "You did well, not many your age can do that, let alone plan that out." Mute gave him warmest smile possible.
This elicited the boy to rub the back of his neck with rosy cheeks to go with the action and causing the Mute girl to giggle at how cute he looked. "Well, not as much fun as I'd have liked but that was impressive you came up with that and knew that in the first place. I've never looked at Mute like a bowling ball before." The tech-savvy man with adrenaline issues said with an approving nod.
Also causing Mute to smack the back of his head as a retort.
"Thanks, Savvy, Frames, Mute, all of you, for everything." They all smiled and nodded to him before they each headed towards their objective: An ancient temple said to hold an ancient Dark Energy within. Spoopy.
This team, Team CRMN, or Carmine, has been acknowledged as possibly the best of their year so far. Each of the individuals came from a different background and earned their way into Beacon Academy, the most prestigious on the playing field.
Well it's that or they got healed by Beacon's medical staff and proceeded to beat the ever living daylights out of three racist individuals before handing over their unconscious bodies with a smile on his face.
You've got Savvy, a technical genius with adrenaline issues and hair styled in the colour of fire as well spiking upwards in that direction, engineering goggles keeping his hair pointing upwards. Wearing baggy camouflage trousers and brown boots along with grey body armour that also doubled as a jumper, a backpack filled with different explosives, Dust and other gadgetry.
Mute, who is the silent but heavy type. Despite being slim. Mute's semblance is to be able to control the mass of herself and the mass of objects she touches or are a limited distance from her. She wears a white, diagonally-buttoned, long-sleeved tailcoat that is grey on the inside, with black and silver trimming and silver cuffs which expand to allow for more hand room.
The trimming goes down the right side of her torso and forms a black collar, said trimming also forms the pattern of several different types of flowers. And as you may or may not know, she's a Mute.
Then you have the team leader, Frames. Frames gets his name from his Semblance which is a time-manipulation and speed hybrid. He slows down his perspective of time whilst everybody else's continues as normal, as a result, time continues at a normal speed. The fact that time slows down for himself acts more like an enhanced reaction speed of which he moves and reacts faster than any individual.
However, he has to react in time normally in order to activate said semblance leading to a lot of accusations of him being 'precognitive.'
He wears a long sleeved grey trench coat that gets more tattered and torn down near his ankles, wearing a shirt with segmented grey armour, between the tiny gaps of said armour you can see black lines that only enhance his visual effect. And finally he wears a pair of grey jogging bottoms, to not restrict his leg movements as well as white and grey sneakers.
And the final but also youngest member of Team CRMN is the Kid. Or, as everyone who calls him by his 'nickname', Knight. Being a play on words, this individual has earned a reputation for being an excellent fighter with most forms of weapons and tactics and has figured out styles and combat usage for many different weapons he's never seen or used before in under a minute, scariest part being he also knows how to build it in under 10 seconds, or so they say.
Being known for his weapon 'hobbies' is one reason he's called Knight.
He also has his nickname for being someone who's known for sneaking around at night and stealing the fish from the kitchen, which no one has caught him doing yet, but everyone knows it's him because whenever there is fish in the cafeteria, guess who's the first to take it all. He wears an armless black body warmer with a grey hood sown into it along with a grey backpack that looks kind of like a pod, to hold most of his weapons and equipment.
On his lower half sits pure white jogging bottoms with black stripes going down it and black plimsolls with red lines going down across them. A barely visible chain leads to a locket being hidden behind his body warmer, the observant can catch it quickly.
As they arrived at their destination, without disturbing anymore Death Stalkers along the way, instead having to deal with a few Ursa, Savvy is the first to speak. "Well, that's...big." For once he wasn't joking, this temple, if you could call it a temple at all, is massive.
The entrance is a good eight stories tall and look like they're entering the mouth of a dragon based Grimm; they couldn't even see the rest of the temple behind the entrance because of thick vine coverage of the area.
"Carmine, fall out." Frames announced, now bearing his no nonsense tone of voice, everyone drew their weapons whether it be projectile or in Mute's particular case, hands (Knuckledusters.) and feet. Each of them took on a defensive stance slowly moving deeper into the temple; one of them has a more concerned and anxious expression than the others. "Hey, Kid, you okay?" Savvy asked him.
"Fine, but whatever is here is definitely Dark in origin, I haven't felt my semblance go this crazy, well, ever, keep your guard up." He says with a slight tone of worry. Literally seconds later, a swarm of pigeon sized Nevermores flew straight at them. Everyone besides the kid attempting to hack, slash and punch them even though they seemingly ignored them. He raised an eyebrow at the others with crossed arms and an amused smirk.
"Oh don't even go there, you flinched to!" Savvy attempted to defend himself only for the kid to toss each of them a glowing dust crystal which they each caught with ease. "There, now you'll be able to see a bit better." The kid said, seemingly ignoring the sentence from Savvy.
"What about you?" Frames asked, causing Mute to tap his shoulder. Getting Frame's attention, she signed. "He's a cute kitty Faunus; he should be able to see in the dark." Which caused Frames to close his eyes with a short sigh of embarrassment that he forgot this simple fact.
"I saw that Mute." The kid said calmly in an almost teasing tone to his voice despite being younger than his teammates as he walked past the pair. Mute's face now lit up like a Christmas tree, they pressed forwards, deeper, into the dark confines of the now ancient and overly creepy temple.
Through the eyes of a normal person, the inner sanctum of the temple would just appear to be pitch black, a place that would cause a feeling of uneasiness and anxiety, like earlier at the entrance. But through the eyes of this Faunus, it's a place of historical beauty, the architecture, the carvings on the walls, everything is completely foreign, yet he felt completely at home. He almost felt excited to analyse everything in this temple.
Almost.
"Kid, we can't see anything, mind giving us a layout-" As he says this, he's rudely interrupted by walking into a wall causing the Faunus he was talking to, to laugh his head off along with the rest of the team, their laughs would be the last sounds he'd hear from his friends for a long while.
"Okay ha-ha very funny, tell me where to walk I can barely see two feet in front of me." Frames said in slight annoyance with a smirk of his own. No response was received. "Kid? Guys?" Nothing. He draws his giant grey scythe with a deep hum of disapproval, his instincts telling him to be ready for anything...until the glowing dust crystal attached to him started to flicker and die out.
"Nononononono." He felt anxiety build up in his chest as his guard solidified just a little as he couldn't see. "Well...fuck me right?" He chuckled nervously to himself, trying and failing to calm himself at least a little, he couldn't even scream at the tooth and claw he saw next.
Whilst the others were starting to go mad in the enshrouding dark, a single Faunus is in a state he'd never felt before, pure terror. His body is trembling and all he could see on a pedestal in front of him, is his younger sister, not just sitting there, slumped against the wall, her body lax and eyes closed, ears and hair black as the night he last saw her. She was also bloody, everywhere, with a sad smile on her face.
From that point forwards, everything inside him, his smart-ass attitude, his totally non-obsessive addiction to weapons and fish, all disappeared as his haunting past began being brought to the forefront of his mind and ground everything he was down to a fine powder and disposing of it like yesterdays garbage.
The edges of his vision became black, his hands and legs are tense and sweaty, slowly clenching into fists, he slowly walked towards the body, tears threatening to leave his eyes, he desperately hoped that what he was seeing isn't real, he knelt and put a hand on her cold face, just as smooth as his memory, but not nearly enough to hide the feeling of a corpse he knows all too well.
Suddenly her eyes opened and a blade rush towards his face, he didn't move, why would he? In a state of terror and shock, his reflexes are reduced to murmurs of mercy in a war he can't win. Everything became black, he couldn't feel or move anything, yet his mind bled sanity more than a cut artery as his poor little soul struggled to process what he saw.
It couldn't be real, it isn't real, it will never be real! He may as well have screamed the words, because no one can hear him, no can see him in a curled up ball of tears. A Pitiful example of a Hunter.
After an eternity of darkness and Entropy, he slowly stood back up, gaining the courage to open his eyes, to see a black crystal. "Are you the cause for all this?" He looks at his hands, covered in the blood of others, not being able to see the blood by his gaping jaw, but he doesn't even seem fazed by anything anymore.
He slowly walked up a set of stairs to reach the pedestal, it took him several minutes to pick up the crystal, there was nothing intricate about it, he couldn't see his own reflection, and instead he saw a woman, a woman that looked as if she were a Grimm, her stare burning through his soul.
He felt his entire body start to heat up and tear itself apart from the inside out, it felt almost like he had drank a cold glass of water and he could feel it flow throughout his body before it heated to a boiling point and replaced his blood with it.
From an outside perspective, it would almost seem nothing were happening, until they looked at his face and saw his right eye, now instead of an amber, it is now a deep blood red, you could tell that he was no longer the same 'Kid' as before, there was no longer any Fear, any emotion, just a boy with a singular goal and purpose, what it is he now seeks? We shall find out soon enough.
As everything began to clear up not only with his vision but also his mind, despite it being on a crumbling verge of ruin. He turned around to see three people sprawled on the floor, deep tooth and claw wounds all over them. "This is the price for what I gift you with." The voice echoed in his head. At face value, it would seem that he isn't reacting at all, but really, inside, the cracks are spreading like wildfire.
"Then the price was too high..." He whispered to himself. "Would you prefer to live without any of the power I have imbued you with?" The voice echoed again. "I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME!" He screamed at the voice inside his fractured mind, the sounds of shouting echoing on for the longest of times.
"I have given you the power to match and surpass the best Hunters and Huntresses that have ever existed, possibly an equal to a maiden, or even myself." The voice is all too simple to decipher, commanding, confident, sinister and definitely female; he didn't know what she meant by a maiden, he didn't care. Despite his original goal of becoming a Hunter...and more.
"And what would you want in return?" He asked in a voice of quiet anger. "Smart one, In return, you serve me with whatever I deem to be your purpose, otherwise you're free to be yourself." He can hear the smile behind her voice, she thinks she's won.
"And what if I disobey?" Silence reigned but quickly ended.
"Oh, ohhhhhhh, I get it, you can't make me do anything you want, can you?" At that he almost made a laugh that would make people think he's been driven mad and at this point, he wouldn't know the difference.
"I'll tell you what, resurrect my friends then maybe, just maybe, I'll work With you." His tone is cold and agitated, ready to tear anyone who comes near him to pieces. "I shall not." Now she sounded a bit more bitter obviously expecting him to instantly reply.
"Then don't expect me to take orders from a voice in my head." He practically growled, looking upon the corpses once again, he slowly walked to and knelt at the side of Mute's body and examined her, even if it was still dark, it made no difference to a damaged child looking for answers, the lines have been blurred.
"Deep claw wounds, no blood in the body and none on the surrounding environment." He's on the verge of tears at this point, but this is something he needed to do, for the sake of his sanity he had to.
Using his claws he cut around different wounds and started noticing something, he began to tremble as he examined the bites on the body as well as the claws, each wound seemed fresh, but the body had seemingly been decomposing faster, however long he's been here.
Muscle tissue is brown and starting to go gunky, skin is pale and clammy also tight on the bones and muscle showing a lack of moisture, starting to break down in some areas of the body, the eyes, they no longer held colour, just a cloudy mixture of grey and white. "Body is already showing signs of decomposition, even if death occurred no less than a few minutes ago." He said to himself solemnly as tears dripped silently to the clothes of one of his beloved friends.
Unfortunately, he deduced that each of them were killed by an enraged Faunus, the claw wounds and bites matched his own...leading him to believe that:
"I killed them?..."
It was as if he were questioning reality itself when he said that. His trembling hands are now shaking like two tectonic plates slamming into each other; he felt the beginnings of a panic attack begin to awaken in his chest.
"C-c-calm..." The words were barely uttered as he was too shaken to do anything.
No matter how much you put yourself through every scenario, no matter how much pain you go through, nothing compares to loosing what you love. And watching helplessly as they die in front of your eyes.
He began to hyperventilate; he pushed himself into a corner and hugged his knees attempting to avert his eyes from the corpses of his once alive friends, only to see them every time he closed his eyes.
No child should have to go through that, none, but this one is, all alone, spouting different words in the many languages hes been educated of, all the while rocking himself and trembling, the tears beginning to form a small puddle on the floor, every so often changing to a crimson colour in his vision.
His trembling fists began shaking faster and faster, but this time out of anger, and luckily for him, he'd have something to take it out on. A pack of Beowolves came wandering into the temple, no doubt sensing the negativity coming from the small Faunus child.
Only now he isn't a child, not anymore, now he's angry, his vision is clear, his hands steady and feet swift, it's no longer dark and the Beowolf Alpha is the first thing he saw when waking from his rebirth into a world filled with nothing but monsters.
Going so fast that he would've made the Flash himself blush from jealousy, he ran just under the head of the said Beowolf Alpha and with surprising strength, slammed the Beowolves' head into the floor, whilst simultaneously climbing onto its back.
Punch after punch, he proceeded to pummel it to a black stain on the floor, even after the Alpha Beowolf had died, he continued punching the black mess now firmly implanted into the floor, anger painting his face a different colour as he lets everything out in a beautiful crescendo of violence.
After around 5 seconds of roars coming from the Beowolves, two eventually charged, only for one of them to receive the dust bullet equivalent of a 50. Cal right between the eyes and the other had the top half of its skull cut off, both of said Beowolves died instantly.
What the other, younger Beowolves hadn't realised by charging at the young Faunus, is that he was very much aware that they were about to try and take his head and that this is only going to make him angrier.
Holding his single handed Katana in one hand, with a complex pistol built into the grip he started chuckling madly. "Nothing else matters from now on." He took out the shotgun from its holster, saw blade under the barrel gleaming and dripping with similar blood that coated his dormant claws, ready for a fresh kill as he revved it in anticipation.
A Beowolf attempted to swipe at him only to have its paw cut off and head explode, brain matter and skull fragments flying everywhere due to the close proximity of the shotgun barrel to under the jaw of the beast.
He slowly turned around to face the rest of them. Four down, six to go. Not enough to kill. He thought to himself while with an angrier tone, an almost Joker level grin forming as another Beowolf charged only to be used as a springboard for him to land on top of another Beowolf.
"Try harder!" he taunted, promptly letting out his own roar as he cut off the Beowolfs head that he was standing on before it could process the young Faunus's existence on its head.
Hopping off the slowly disintegrating corpse of the Beowolf, he proceeded to dodge several claw attacks from his new playmates.
After a third dodge, which came uncomfortably close to shredding the skin off his chest, he dropped on to his back and slid backwards between the legs of the Beowolf behind him.
Raising his leg a little early to flip himself to his feet, he ended up kicking the said Beowolf straight in the batteries causing it to give off a surprised yelp, as it hunched over from the pain, directly at the level the kids face would've been, it received the claw swipe it wasn't supposed to, leading it to now no longer have half of its lower jaw.
However he kept his composure and redoubled his efforts. He ended up giving an anger filled mercy killing for the now 'crippled' Beowolf by running up its back and obliterating its head with a shotgun blast.
But he didn't expect the Beowolf that was trying to hit him to learn and predict his actions so quickly. The young Faunus didn't see the Beowolfs clawed hand in time and was promptly thwacked into the nearest wall, with a claw wound on his chest since his Aura had gone down at some point. Picking himself up as the remaining Beowolves began to surround him; he proceeded to use something he hadn't used yet.
SLICE, two of the remaining Beowolves had been cut in half by an unexpected use of his shotgun/saw, there's a reason why this weapon in particular is dubbed as a Variant Ballistic Chain Saw, he could launch it like a whip and have more fun than a lumberjack. He stared down the last Beowolf, a smaller one, meaning it was younger.
It attempted to leap at him only for its legs to be cut off, causing a yelp of surprise and a large thud as the Beowolf landed on its own face.
He proceeded to take about ten minutes of his time to make the moments before its death as excruciatingly painful as possible, gaining strength from the Fear and pained growls it practically radiated.
With the entire Beowolf pack dead, he stumbled over to the bodies of his old teammates and said a quick prayer. "Finden Sie Ruhe in der Umarmung der Götter." He whispered silently, he never noticed that it was now light inside the temple, taking what equipment, food and other supplies they had that were still intact.
Keeping pressure on the bleeding wounds on his chest, he walked over to the only exit there is, the way he came in. As he reached the entrance once again, he stopped and looked out into the forest before him. "I'm sorry Oz...I won't be coming back." He said to himself with a half sigh and a tone of sadness.
His only friends were dead, he killed them, he tore them to pieces! Even if he doesn't remember, he still killed them; the evidence was there, guilt and regret spread in his mind as he collapsed to his knees thinking back to what he saw back in the temple, before a new goal popped in his mind through the raging storm. Yet he ignored it.
He stood with a high head and began walking.
"Nothing else matters." Were his final words before he disappeared into the forest clinging onto a black crystal, as if for dear life.
I'll be honest, I liked this work in particular not because the main character looks badass and edgy (not at all like Timmy's First Fanfiction) but the way I've structured the story, to some it might be confusing, but in my opinion it's clear. Sure I've killed off a few characters with potential early on in the story but eh, I kill people all the time.
That came out wrong.
Anyway! From after this chapter is the content I posted however long ago when my understanding of writing English was literally the equivalent of a stereotypical Frenchman impression by Jeremy Clarkson. I might update the rest of it and continue with the story depending on your guys opinion, let me know, I'd love to write more of this!
So again, thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, punch that Favourite button so hard your computer shatters! (Not literally) But if you were 'ehh' over it but still want to see me write more be sure to let me know how I can improve by posting a review and Following to keep you updated, I reply to all of my reviews and all constructive criticism or feedback in general is appreciated, even ones where you say "It's shit." and walk off, I don't care, don't like it, don't read it, this isn't a prison.
And with that! May your foes be strong enough to keep you sharp. BYE!
