Author's Notes:
Hi all! This is just a quick one-shot I threw together while I was bored. First time ever writing something on here so I don't know if anyone will actually like it but hey, I tried at least! It's a slight reimagining of the RWBY "Red" trailer. Some things are different, some the same, I'll let you figure out that part. Let me know if you enjoyed by leaving a review or messaging me and i'll read what you have to say when I can, but please, constructive criticim only. No flames.
Snow. Cold, white and consuming. Nothing can escape it, at least not forever. Snow is harsh and unforgiving, yet with a strange beauty to it.
But our story is not of the snow. We are merely setting the scene.
No, our story is not of the snow, but the cloak-clad figure walking over the crunching frost of the forest floor, hood up and flowing cloak obscuring them. A blot of red colour against a landscape otherwise wholly black and white. A girl who is just now returning from a journey to visit this forest.
She walks through the forest, wrapped in her red cloak, with not a care in the world. She walks. Walks over the snowy ground. Walks by the blackened trees.
She walks past the glaring red eyes.
All is silent but for the crunching footfalls of this girl as she makes her way home. She comes to a clearing, noting how strange it was she didn't notice it before. It is at that thought she realises, that she is not alone.
At first there was only one of them; a strange black furred creature with eyes as red as the girl's cloak, wolf-like in appearance and yet standing on two legs instead of all fours, and with it's arms and torso almost human in shape, save for the claws at its fingertips and the thick black fur which covered its body.
This creature, the girl remembers after spotting it, is known as a Beowolf: one of the many different creatures of Grimm, the monsters which stalk this world and desire nothing but mankind's destruction. She sees only one but is not fooled. She knows what instinct has taught them: to hunt in packs.
On that thought, more Beowolves emerge from their hiding place amongst the trees. A large pack, at least twenty now, and more were coming.
Most would have ran. Cowered in fear and prayed for their lives. But not the girl. For you see she had no reason to be afraid.
No reason at all.
Not of such weak opponents.
The beasts make the first move, three from the front of the pack charge forward, meaning to end it quickly. They reach where the girl stands and lunge for her.
They hit nothing but thin air.
The girl reacts faster than lightning, moving so fast that the beowolves cannot track her. They look behind them, beside them, towards the trees but there is no sign of their prey. Not until they look up.
Before they can react one of them has already fallen dead, a gaping hole in its head and its blood painting the snow crimson. The girl is high in the air, a large, bulky rifle in hand. As she falls she shoots again, hitting one in the shoulder, injuring it but not killing it. Not quite yet anyway. She rolls as she hits the ground, firing again, the recoin from the gun so fierce that it propels her slightly away from the pack, just far enough.
Parts of the rifle, bulky in size and bright red in colour, begin to shift and move, changing the form of the weapon. The barrel and grip extend, the frame shifting position, a blade protrudes. The change only takes a few seconds, but it is now a completely different weapon, a very dangerous weapon: a scythe. To look at it one would wonder how a girl no older than perhaps her mid-teens in age could even lift such a large and intricate device, but she was in a battle stance and ready to fight like it was as simple as breathing to her.
She stuck the blade into the frost covered ground and pulled the still present trigger of the rifle/scythe combination and the weapon, still able to fire as it was, unleashed another round, killing the Beowolf she had injured. Moments ago. The whole pack rushed towards her, several being expertly dispatched in the process, until one of them reached her. She hopped into the air, pulling the blade from the ground, and fired, the immense recoil propelling her back and killing her attacker.
She decided it was time to go on the offensive. She fired once again, behind her this time, allowing the recoil to propel her towards the monsters. Nearing them, she swung the scythe with unbelievable speed and strength and severed the head of another Beowolf. She continued to swing the weapon this way and that, injuring and killing more monsters with each strike. One snuck up behind her, but was unsuccessful, the blade part positioned behind it. With a pull of the trigger, the beast was sliced clean in two, another that was behind it being hit with the stray bullet. One swiped its claws and almost hit her, but she blocked with the handle of the gun-scythe, being knocked back several feet. Taking the moment that she was given after being knocked away, she landed on her feet and reloaded the now near empty gun part of the weapon she wielded.
She was tired of playing games. It was time to end it. Rushing in once more she began slashing, striking and shooting, occasionally blocking or avoiding a claw or sharp-toothed jaw. Looking on the scene, one would be either terrified or more impressed than they had ever been. Beowolf after Beowolf fell and the girl who was less than half their size and completely on her own, had not a single scratch on her. Limbs and newly made corpses littered the ground and their number was rising as the monsters fell. She had slain at least thirty of the monsters by now and was finally succumbing to fatigue, but she would not be beaten.
Dashing away once more she loaded the weapon with a special type of ammunition: exploding bullets. It was time to end the fight.
Rushing them she slashed at the remaining beasts and waited for an opportunity. Then she noticed it. One of the wolves was injured and would be perfect for what she had planned. She ran towards it and jumped, landing on its shoulders. It tried to claw at her but its movements gave her the momentum she needed. Jumping with the movement of the monster, she launched herself in the air, higher than before. She needed to make certain she was nowhere near what she had planned.
It was a simple action that had a violent reaction. She aimed and pulled the trigger, her shot hitting the very center of where the pack had gathered around where she was. At first nothing. Then a spark, which was followed by a brief flame. Then came the explosion. The burst of force and flame expanded in an instant, consuming all the Beowolves in its wrath. Even from high in the air the girl could feel the sheer force of what was happening.
When she landed there was not a single trace of the Beowolves. She scanned the area to make certain but not a single monster remained. It was beginning to snow now. The white flakes would soon cover up any trace of a fight, save for the sizable crater her decisive action had caused. She transformed her weapon back to its original form and holstered it behind her back, under the cloak.
She decided it was best not to linger as another group of monsters, ones that may actually pose a threat, may show up to investigate all the commotion.
And so, as before, she walks. She walks through the forest, wrapped in her red cloak, with not a care in the world.
So it's pretty obvious who the protagonist of this little story is. If you don't know then why are you reading a RWBY story? Like I said, let me know if you enjoyed and I may begin writing more than just trailer reimaginings. Thanks for reading!