AN: Hopefully the start of a fanfiction which will go (at least) into the 100,000 word mark. Warning, dark themes and descriptions are present throughout this chapter and the rest of the fan fictions.

A vociferous cry echoed in the distance, full of malice and hatred. A primal roar slicing the silence of the night. Many more followed, creating a symphony of antipathy and hostility that resounded throughout the Remains of Remnant, reminding Ruby that there was no hiding, - no hiding from the creatures of the night that hunt the last remaining survivors with adamant determination. She guessed it was to be expected, for Grimm have no concept of exhaustion, and the only food they require is fear.

Savoury fear that tickles their palette and drives them into savagery and barbarity.

Ruby knelt down against a depressive trunk of a fallen tree. She let herself meld into the shadows; letting herself be protected by the veil of the night. She drew her cloak around her body and hugged her knees. The cold of winter bit into her back. She felt her body go numb. She was relating with the trunk... for some odd reason. Not because it was fallen, as she is alive and kicking - for now anyway - unlike most of her friends, whom would find the fallen aspect perfectly relate-able, as most if not all perished in the battle against Cinder. All died for Ruby's sake. All died for her survival. She felt the guilt gnaw away from the inside, chomping and biting at the little she had left of her humanity.

No, the reason why she could relate with the trunk was because of how depressed it looked. It mirrored her state of mind, all too well. The trunk looked scarred and beaten, the bark formulating a face of agony staring at her soul. Or.. it could just be her imagination. Maybe it was just a normal trunk, and she was just seeing things. Her brain did that to her sometimes.

She shivered. Slow and unsteady hitched breaths escaped her dejected smile, breathing out condensate in the frosty, frigid air. The stars gazed sardonically upon her hopeless state with fictitious pity.

The distanced howls continued, slowly creeping closer and closer, until the sound of rustling bushes surrounded her. A Beowolf leaped out. Followed by another. Followed by another. Before she realised it, she was in the spotlight of many bloodthirsty Grimm, all licking their lips in anticipation, drooling at the thought of ripping her apart. She made an unconscious attempt at lifting herself onto her feet, but failed immediately and collapsed back down. Her legs gave in under her weight, as restless days of constant running and hungry nights led to muscle damage and fatigue.

The Beowolfs watched in grim amusement at her feeble attempt as they surrounded her, but the joke was on them. Ruby didn't care for her own survival anymore. Thoughts of 'This is where I die..' and 'Finally I may meet my friends' rebounded in her head. Her miserable existence, days of fruitless combat and constant loss, would end as they, the Grimm, would pounce and inevitably lead to her excruciating, yet welcome, demise. Yet... it didn't. A sudden rush of adrenaline, the glinting of silver eyes and an innate desire to live sprung up inside of her. Be it determination she didn't know she had, or a strong innate instinct of self-preservation that she hoped she had lost, allowed her to bound onto her feet using her semblance, as she drew Crescent Rose into an arc, decapitating the oncoming Beowolf cleanly and without resistance. The other surrounding Beowolfs snarled-

And she snarled back.

Ruby dashed, using her semblance, rhythmically with the swings of her scythe, like a macabre waltz of decapitations and mutilation. Rose petals splattered with blood fell onto the snowy surface of the ground, tainting the white snow into a crimson red. For the first time in a while, she felt alive. She felt a deep satisfaction as her scythe cut through the Grimm like butter. A cathartic release as she danced on corpses. Her eyes widened. Her smile widened. She cut the throat of a Beowulf in a fast swing, cutting it from ear to ear. She turned and mutilated another, making sure to cut off all limbs in a flurry of attacks, creating a torso with only its head attached, so it could wail pain as it struggled to move and survive. She let out a small laugh at the grisly picture that she created. She was the hunter, not the hunted.

Ruby believed she was an artist. She vowed she would paint a beautiful canvas onto the snow using their blood. She let her mind wander as she continued her unrelenting assault upon the masses of Grimm.

She beat herself mentally for giving up. Her friends died for her, so that she'd live. Surrendering her life would be disrespectful towards their sacrifice. A storm brew in her silver eyes. 'Yes, it was all Cinder's fault. Her fault that all my friends are dead!' she thought, as the silver in her eye darkened, and her smile fell into a snarl yet again. She felt increasingly enraged and resentful.

The swings of her scythe grew heavier and stronger as her movement grew swifter, but it wasn't long until she was the last creature standing. All the Grimm were left in an indescribable mess of guts and shattered bone as she collapsed onto the crimson floor, rose petals still falling around her. A tear escaped her eyes, and many more followed. 'They really are gone, aren't they?' she thought. 'I couldn't save them..'

AN: I know that the character of Ruby seems divided, but that was the motive that I had: to create a broken, psychotic Ruby that suffers from PTSD and 'survivour's guilt'. And I feel like I've done a decent job at it. Also I'll try to make chapters longer in the future, as this one is just shorter because it is late at night and quite frankly I want to go to bed.

Remember to follow this story if you want to read more, as the next chapter is coming out sometime later this week.

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