The next two days were odd, to say the least. While the Undead hadn't fought anyone in any of Mrs. Goodwitch's class, he also hadn't really had any contact with anyone as they seemed to avoid him like the abyss. He was given his own dorm until his "Home" was done being renovated. As Ozpin had put it, "Grimm activity has been spiking around there and I don't wish to endanger the renovators."
Fair enough, Brador thought, but throughout his days here he was finally realizing his situation. Now he was alone, the curse still gripped him, and every day was a struggle without some sort of human contact. Team RWBY and JNPR avoided him just as much as the others after his match with Weiss, so really his only form of communication had been severed.
Being Undead wasn't something he expected to happen, nor was hollowing. In places like Lothric, people almost always had some sort of contingency. As for Brador, even if he had a plan, all of that would've been completely wiped out when he arrived in Remnant. This place was so different from his home, and that's what ate at him.
After a few minutes of just laying on his bed in a room clearly meant for more than a single person, he got up and slipped on his uniform. Brador opened the door and walked to his first class with Professor Port. To be quite honest, he wasn't sure what the class was about. He seemed to always start a lesson but somehow end up telling some ridiculous story. Brador always paid attention though, while many others took it as their chance to get some extra sleep. The man wasn't lying, that was for sure. The Undead could tell that above all. Despite his loud, boisterous attitude was a man of many decorations.
Soon after a little tangent he asks the class "Who where believes they have what it takes to become a TRUE huntsman?!" For some reason, this woke up the class. Brador was seated in the back of the class and he could see everyone from where he was, and he was at least a little shocked when he saw how little hands had been raised. They're all in a school to become a huntsman, shouldn't they all raise their hands? To be quite honest, Brador felt as if he shouldn't raise his hand. He wasn't going to be at this school forever, and although being a huntsman intrigued him, he doubted his life would take him their.
His inner dialogue was cutoff by Port's booming huzzah as he called on Weiss to demonstrate her skill. After a brief interlude she was dressed in her combat gear ready for battle. The Professor unleashed a Grimm that resembled a boar, A Boarbatusk, if Brador could recall. It immediately sped off out of its cage and went straight for Weiss. Brador wasn't really paying attention. In fact as of recently, he'd been extremely tired. After he got out of bed he felt refreshed, but throughout these two hours or so of being awake, he really just wanted to sleep.
Sleep wasn't really the word Brador would use though, perhaps more on the brink of comatose. His eyelids were heavy and his arms felt as if they were filled with the heaviest of iron. As the Undead tries to remember, he didn't get much sleep last night. With one final decision, Brador though it best just to let the slumber take him. Everyone else did, and with how much longer the class had, a little nap would hardly hurt anyone.
Brador's eyes fluttered open and he quickly realized he wasn't laying his head on the nicely varnished wood the desks at Beacon had been made of. He lifted his head from the rocky floor and sat up. The surrounding area was abysmal, no sign of life warmth. As he stood up, he heard a voice call to him. Brador couldn't move his legs, or rather they were moving on their own. He was being yanked towards the voice, the only movable part of his body being his head.
Whatever this voice was saying, Brador couldn't hear it. It was almost as if the person speaking was under water. After a few seconds of accepting this was going to happen, Brador began seeing things at the corner of his vision.
Little pale glowing orbs, which he assumed were eyes, stared at him. It was only a few, however he could see more begin to form. The eyes weren't exactly staring AT him, however, more likely they were staring through him, as if they wanted something behind him, or even inside.
Brador reached a complete drop off, and whatever light that existed in this cavern was being swallowed by this chasm. The Undead felt his knees being forced to the ground, though it was as if his own body was fighting against itself. One half was yanking him away, trying to escape whatever would happen and the other locking him in place in front of the crater.
The former knight managed to look behind him to see the eyes and the creatures they belonged to coming from behind him. When they finally arrived, they didn't seem to really do anything. This things were manifestations of Humanity, and were almost adorable looking, however given the situation they most certainly weren't.
Brador figured out the voice was coming from the hole, and now began to rumble the cavern. In one swift motion a wave of nausea waved over the Undead. It felt like the air was being removed from his lungs as his hands were formed in front of him. On all fours now, he felt even worse. Something was being taken from him,
His eyes widened as he say a small orb of abyssal power was escaping from his mouth. The realization hit the Undead. His Humanity was being taken from him. With whatever strength he certainly didn't have he tried fighting back, fruitlessly of course. As the last sliver of his soul escaping from his mouth, it floating in front of him, just above the chasm. It said nothing, but slowly dropped down into the hole.
When Brador could no longer see his humanity the force that was keeping him pinned released him all at once. To weak to stand, he looked at his hands. No more the gruff callused ones he'd grown to love, but now mangled at quite putrid looking. His body now looked as if the first few layers of skin were removed. The word he would use would be 'meaty'.
However, Brador didn't care. If he was to be honest, it felt pretty damn good. He lay there, looking towards the ceiling, stalactites jutting down from the dark. He closed his eyes, feeling content. Brador got up from his resting place and walked in the opposite direction of the dark chasm. He walked forward, dragging his feet across the floor. He hadn't thought of were he was going just that he felt he should be going somewhere.
After a few steps the Undead tripped and fell face first on the dank floor. As Brador closed his eyes, he finally heard the voice clearly.
"Fear not the Dark, my friend. And let the Feast begin."
The bell shot the Undead awake, his eyes wild and dilated. He tried all he could to catch his breath, and stood slowly from his chair. Everyone was already leaving Port's class. Brador just followed them out, at this point he just wanted to go back to his room. Luckily it was time for lunch, so at least he didn't have to think.
As Brador sat down, alone of course, he began chowing down on the daily special, which is just soup. To be fair, though, the soup was excellent and much better than any sort he would have had back in Lothric. Carrots, onions, potatoes and chicken. Yum! Once the undead was done with his meal, he got up to throw away his trash. Brador scratched his beard, completely oblivious to the perfectly placed foot in front of his path.
In a matter of seconds the Undead was on his stomach, food remnant, trash, and a tray had been strewn about. Laughter erupted throughout the cafeteria. 'Good,' thought Brador, 'I need to let of some steam.'
Brador knew who it was, because it was right above him with his lackeys backing him up. "Hey bud, nice fall there!" Cardin exclaimed, his team laughing almost immediately after. Goodness, had they rehearsed this?
"I'll give a few seconds to apologize, I knew you'll need the extra time to figure out how to use words that have more than four letters in them." Brador replied, folding his arms, dusting off his blazer.
After Brador's comment, the laughter was no off of him and aimed towards Cardin. "What did you say? I just ordered you're own coffin, punk." Cardin recoiled a little bit after his little threat when he saw Brador grin. The undead turned around and pushed a table back giving the duel its much needed room. The cafeteria fell into a hush as people began backing up. "Let's show this punk who he's messing with guys." Cardin said as he went for the cheap shot, aiming at the back of Brador's head. With a quick side step the red head missed completely. The Undead grabbed the offending fist and used the momentum of the hulking boy attached to it to drop him to his back with a flip.
The air in Cardin's lungs were quickly exhaled when he hit the tile, while Brador anticipated the other attack from one of the team members and launched his elbow back with the blow landing directly into the boy with gray hair's nose. The poor boy never saw it coming and flipped upside down, the back of his head hitting the floor.
The the last two members of the team charged for Brador who rolled to the side then tackles the chubbier of the two. After striking his left cheek with his fist repeatedly, the Undead was kicked off by the other boy.
"We shouldn't just be standing here, we need a teacher of something." Ruby said, both her team and JNPR getting front row seats to the carnage.
"Are you kidding? This is amazing!" Nora said amid the noise of other students cheering.
"But this isn't allowed! Fighting is strictly for the sparring room or during Miss Goodwitch's class!" Ruby argued.
"I have to agree with Nora here Rubles, Team CRDL is getting exactly what they deserve. I bet even Jaune want's some second hand payback." Everyone looked at Jaune waiting for his response.
"Yeah kind of..." You could hear the guilt in his voice, but only a little. The teens stopped arguing as they realized no one was willing to leave or break it up themselves.
At this point, Cardin and Sky had recovered but not in time to save their friends from a beat down. Sky was easy to put back down again, not much of a fighter, this one. This just left Cardin and Brador. While the undead was significantly shorter than the red head, that only seemed to work against the brute. Each punch had no thought in it, just pure force. Granted, if one of those hits connected it would be hell to shake off, but Brador was doing an excellent job of staying out of reach.
With one little mistake leaving himself wide open, Brador throws all of his weight into tackling Cardin, bringing him to his back. The Undead pins his legs and grabs a fist full of his hair. Holding up his head, Brador brings his fist down on Cardin's face. With a small crack the red head's head hits the ground.
With another fist rearing back, Brador gets inches from his face until he hears a voice none to happy. "What is the meaning of this?!" Brador stays his hand and cocks his head to the side, seeing a very angry Goodwitch. The cafeteria is dead silent, the Undead himself hadn't moved, his fist still poised and ready for another strike.
"Uh... Ms Goodwitch?" A small voice squeaked from the large group of teens. The owner of the voice turned out to be Velvet Scarlatina, who seemed even more timid in front of the daunting professor.
"What is it Velvet?" Ms Goodwitch asked.
"None of this was his fault, team CRDL knocked him over. He was only defending himself, it just happened he was stronger than them..." The faunus messed with the hem of her skirt, obviously uncomfortable. The look on Glynda's face was hard to read. Anger, acceptance, and other non describable emotions crossed her face.
"Is this true?" The professor looked across the sea of children when asking the question. A lull of 'yes' came towards the teacher, who just nodded. At around this time team CRDL came too, Brador having moved off of Cardin. "You four boys, check into the the nurse's office, I'll be down to give you your punishment later."
"Punishment?! But he was the-" Cardin was stopped with nothing more than a sideways glare. This event was over and done with now, and it was clear she wanted nothing more to do with it.
"I would suggest everyone get ready for their next class." Ms. Goodwitch said, it was obvious not another word would be said. As the students dispersed to their regularly scheduled classes, Brador tried sneaking out in the sea of children. Stopped by a single riding crop, the Undead realized he wouldn't be leaving this unscathed.
The professor began walking away, a single finger signaling for him to follow. Stepping right on her heels, they both walked in silence until reaching Ozpin's elevator. Brador alone stepped in as Glynda moved forward to push the singular button. Their eyes locked and Glynda's eyes alone could've killed even the strongest of Grimm.
When he reached the top and as the doors slid open, Ozpin was was mindlessly doing... whatever it is he does. Brador helped himself to the seat in front of him.
"Well Mr. Brador, as you know a few days ago I informed you that a Grimm attack happened around your next form of residence. Well, Mrs. Goodwitch dispatched off them yesterday and I just wanted to inform you that by tomorrow you new housing should be all set for you to inhabit."
"This is great news! However, may I ask as to why Mrs. Goodwitch took it upon herself to clear out the Grimm herself?" Brador asks.
"Well as she put it, 'He's all the students talk about, and he causes quite a disturbance.' And if I'm to be honest Brador, she isn't wrong." All the Headmaster did was twist his computer around to show the Undead his previous tussle with Team CRDL. "I won't ask, Mr. Brador. I saw the whole thing, but I think you could agree that you're presence at this school is becoming... increasingly difficult. Besides, I'm sure you're more than pleased to finally rid yourself of school, hm?" Ozpin took a quick sip of his coffee and set it back down.
"Now, I suppose by the time you go to bed, ready your belongings and reach the docks everything will be set. I've instructed Team CVFY to escort you to your housing, as they should be well equipped to deal with any threat there should be, as capable. I'm sure, you are. Safety in numbers and all that." With another long slurp of his black beverage, he gives Brador the okay to leave.
With a few steps back towards the elevator, Brador steps back in. With a slow button press, the doors closed on Ozpin's office. Only one destination, his bed.
So uh... Hey guys. Look I won't try to pull the wool over your eyes and say that I had so much on my plate because that certainly isn't the case. It's laziness and all around not feeling motivated. However a friend of mine read this story and she really liked it, and essentially forced me to continue writing, so good for all of us! Also, she going to be doing some art for the story so stay tuned for that! Anyways, I can't promise a set schedule, but it shouldn't be the near seven months it actually was.
Guest: I'm glad you're enjoying it! And I highly recommend Dark Souls, some of the finest games out there! And don't worry your pretty little head, headgear is to come.
TheGrammarNaziIsHere: Y'know I was wondering about this myself, and I think I'll change it to be honest, especially considering this won't exactly have E rated language. Also it's just a little tacky to have that in the summary.
Shadowolf: I hope this chapter was to your liking then! (BTW Dancer isn't as hard as everyone says)
SilentXD7: I'm really glad you think so, it's people who show genuine interest that keeps the fire full of wood.
Guest: Well here's the fucking update then, yeah? Haha, but I love the passion you have, so here we are.
themaskedswordsman: Well 'soon' isn't the word I'd use. Again, sorry for that. But I hope this chapter is to your liking.