So, I probably shouldn't need to say this, but I shall. No, this story is not some "dig" at America. I know a lot of people over there are in a not so ideal situation at the moment, politically or otherwise, but there's no need to get offended at me having Jaune think something about his home.
Case in point, the drug mention last chapter. Recreational drugs tend to exist wherever there is a customer base for them, which tends to be first-world countries, seeing as they have the disposable income to get high for no other benefit than enjoyment (drug fraud for fake pharmaceutical drugs, on the other hand, is more common in poorer countries). Mass also has legalised Cannabis, and the US – like it or not - has its Opium issue, so Jaune saying that drugs could be found in a High School was a reference to that.
And I bet just about every High School does have drugs in it somewhere. US, UK, France or just about anywhere else. It's not a dig at the US to say that. As for guns, well, what do you want me to say? The US does have more guns per head than any other country in the world. That's not hyperbole or satire from me. It's just a fact. Jaune saying something like, "This is the US, so guns are pretty easy to find" is not a dig. It's the truth.
I don't care enough to make digs at other countries or people, because why would I? What would I get by insulting another country? Would it entertain me? Would it benefit me in some way? Not really. I have my thoughts about the US, but they're neither here, there, nor relevant in this story. Vale isn't even a real city.
There are things I need this to be based in the US for, but that's not for the sake of insulting the country. I need characters to have access to guns, none-free healthcare, well-armed police, bigger weather (i.e. hurricanes and such), fervent religion, first-world status, and a bunch of other things. Most of the things I need just don't exist in the UK. If I wanted Ruby to be throwing acid on Grimm, then maybe I could have set it in London.
But that's not very heroic…
Cover Art: Z-ComiX
Chapter 4
It was dark in Eastfield, with most of the lights off and the corridors covered in gloom. There was enough light to see by, but the darkness at the ends of the corridors frightened him. Miss Farleigh noticed and, still supporting him with one arm, clicked her tongue softly.
"There's no need to worry. I have a barrier up around the school. They won't be able to get close, let alone inside."
"Barrier…?"
"You saw it, didn't you? I sensed its activation. It wouldn't have hurt a normal person, but they would have been killed."
"I saw it. I just didn't know…" He sighed. "None of this makes sense."
"No, I suppose it wouldn't."
"We need to call the police."
"They won't be able to help, Jaune. I'm not sure if you noticed or not, but most people can't perceive those things. They can neither see nor feel them. To the average person, the Grimm may as well not exist."
"Grimm…?"
"It's what we call them – we being those who can witness the creatures. They're named after the fairy tales. You know, the Brothers Grimm. I guess the reasons why don't matter. No one knows what they actually are, of course. It's just a name we've chosen to give them."
Grimm? Able to see? Barrier?
"Miss Farleigh, what's going on here?"
"Rebecca," she chastised. "I think in a situation like this, you can call me by my name. As for what… well, you noticed the scarring in the sky, correct?"
"Hard to miss it."
"Not as hard as you'd think. Most people can't see it. I'd go so far as to say ninety-nine per cent of people can't see it. We're the unlucky one per cent." She eyed him seriously. "Tell me, Jaune, do you believe in monsters?"
"Hard not to with what I've just seen."
"There's your problem. Our problem. The Grimm can't be seen by most people because they don't believe in them. Without belief, they're not real. They can't interact or interfere in our world and are nothing more than phantasms."
"You're telling me this is some kind of Peter Pan `believe I can fly` nonsense?"
"I'm telling you only what I know." Rebecca paused before the cafeteria and brought them inside. It was dark and empty, but the tables and chairs were all arrayed as usual, albeit with the chairs atop the tables so the floor could be mopped. "Here," she said, pushing him to lean on one as she cleared the chairs off it, one for each of them. "We can sit and talk here. You're unsteady on your feet as it is."
More from fatigue than anything else, Jaune slumped into the plastic seat. "Yeah, I guess I am. I just… I can't believe what just happened."
"You can," she pressed, leaning forward. "If you couldn't, you wouldn't be in this situation. Do you remember when I told you of how I looked into the supernatural when I was younger? I didn't lie there, but I did lie when I said I grew out of it. I didn't grow, Jaune. I survived. They're real."
"Who are they?"
"Like I said, we call them the Grimm."
"Who is we?"
"Those of us like you and me. We're not common, far from it, and we're few and far between, but every now and then there's someone who discovers the Grimm and lives to tell the tale. I was helped by one when I was younger. He's the one who told me about things like Grimm, the Nightmares and everything else I know."
"Take tonight for instance," she said, gesturing to a window. "You saw the crack. It won't be there tomorrow, and it might not come back for a while. It only shows up on nights like this – Nightmares. A Nightmare is the moment when the boundary between our world and theirs weakens. Or, as you noticed, cracks entirely. It's when they're more active. More aggressive."
It was too much. Too many questions and too many things at once. Jaune tried to make sense of it and failed. "I don't understand."
Rebecca sighed. "Right. I'll try to lay it out simply. Keep in mind, none of this is known fact. It's just what we've been able to find out. They may not be called Grimm – we call them that. And Nightmare is just a term we use. Nothing more. This is guesswork based on what we've seen and experienced, but it should be enough for you to understand the basics."
Jaune nodded and listened.
"There is a… dimension, for lack of a better term, that runs alongside our own. Maybe it's another world, alternate reality or something else. We don't know. It's where the Grimm live, however. Whatever boundary there is between our dimensions is weak. It lets the Grimm come across and roam here, but they don't come with their bodies. Just what we're calling their souls."
"Like the shadowy monsters?"
"Yes. They're here, but not all of them. Not their physical bodies, anyway. For the most part, they can't interact with our world. They pass through people, objects and everything else like it doesn't exist. They're harmless. But… sometimes the differences between our world and theirs weakens. In those times, they can bring more of themselves across. Or maybe it's not them doing it, but it's more our world aligning with theirs. Either way, they can do more."
"Nights like this," Jaune said. "Nightmares."
"Yes. You saw the scar. That's an early warning sign of what's to come. Sometimes it can be years between nightmares, sometimes less. There doesn't seem to be rhyme or reason to it. When the Grimm do become more corporeal, they start to hunt. We're not sure if they can see us or not either. We think they can't. In the same way we see them as indistinct shapes, they probably see us, too. That's why they roam without incident most nights. But when they become more real, they can see people, interact with people. Hunt and kill people."
"Why, though?"
"We've no idea. Food, essence, instinct or entertainment. We simply don't know. Trying to apply human understanding to them probably isn't a good idea, though. Whether they need to do this to live or do it for some other reason, it's not going to stop us hating them for it."
"I… I guess not. I just wanted to understand."
She laughed. "You and every other Awakened out there."
"Awakened. What's that?"
"Patience. So, you have the Grimm unable to interact with humans even as they cross half their body, soul or whatever into our world. If it were just the occasional killing on a Nightmare, the world wouldn't notice. The problem is, whatever is allowing the Grimm to cross into our world, some people on our side have started to gain the same ability."
"Dimensionsl travellers?"
"Not as Sci-Fi would have you believe it," Rebecca teased. "It's hard to explain, but… you and I, we both quality for this. Again, it's a theory but the Grimm can't see the average person – or vice versa – because the Grimm have only sent an intangible part of their presence into our world. How then, are there some like us who can both see, interact and be seen by the Grimm?"
If the question were asked at any other time, he'd have had no answer, but she had as good as given it to him already. "Because we're doing the same in reverse?"
"That's the leading theory. Some of us have started to send a piece of ourselves into their world. It's almost certainly subconscious, and probably unwillingly, too. The weakened boundary must be pulling us across. Whatever the case, we're not leaving our world, but a part of us – a small part of our minds or souls – exists in their world. And as such, because we are partly in both worlds like they are, we meet."
"And because we meet, they can perceive us. And we can see them."
"Exactly. Taking the theme I mentioned earlier where nights like this are called `Nightmares`, we call the world – our world – in which no one ever sees or has to experience these monsters `The Dream`. Those who live peacefully within it, `Dreamers`."
"And those who don't, people like you and I, are Awakened," Jaune finished. "We've come out of the Dream. Except… the Nightmares are still real."
"It's not a perfect analogy," Rebecca allowed, "but I guess someone needed something to call all this. The names stuck, even if they don't make perfect sense."
None of this made sense, but… arguing over the words used wouldn't change anything. Like she'd said, they were just words picked so people would have something to call it. There didn't seem to be any real connotations to sleep.
Still, part of my body or soul was in another world? I shivered at the thought. What was I supposed to feel about that? Was my other self in danger? Was I in danger? Would I suddenly keel over dead because the small fragment of me was killed?
Drip-Drip
No. That was stupid. Miss- Rebecca – was in the same situation I was and had been for years. If her other self wasn't dead, then mine wasn't likely to follow. Not just like that. "You said something earlier about belief. What was that about?"
"That's how someone Awakens. There is something of a… barrier in the human mind, I suppose you could say. A protection. Our world is very set in its ways and people know what is real and what isn't. Or they think they know. Ironically, that stubborn attitude really does help them. Their minds are so ingrained to deny the existence of what isn't real, that their souls simply cannot pass through the boundary. They limit themselves by believing they cannot do certain things. And that limitation keeps them safe. Keeps them in the Dream."
"The problem is when someone starts to doubt," she continued. "Or when something makes them doubt. Proof that makes them question what is real and what is not. This can shake the foundations of a person's world, allow them to consider other things." Her expression darkened. "See. Other things. It opens their minds, and opens their souls, too. To danger, among other things. We call events like this Awakenings. Tell me, Jaune. What happened to make you Awaken?"
Fear raced through Jaune's body as the memory came back. "I saw a Grimm kill – no, eating – someone. I saw the man's body. His decapitated head. And then I saw it."
Rebecca's eyes closed. "Describe it."
"It… I thought it was a dog at first." He laughed at the absurd thought. "I thought it was a big dog, and then a wolf – and maybe even a bear. But I knew they couldn't be in Vale, nor that they could have torn a man limb from limb like that. It was impossible. The thing, the Grimm, started to grow before my eyes. Bigger and stronger, more… unnatural."
"That was you breaking beyond your mental blocks," Rebecca explained. "Your mind attempted to rationalise what it saw and convince you it was just a wild animal. If you had believed that, you may have been safe. You'd have run, but to the Grimm you would have been a vague flash of shape and colour. It would not have chased. You would have later convinced yourself it was just a bad encounter with a feral dog, wolf or something else."
"But I didn't." Jaune groaned. "I convinced myself it was something more."
"And it was. And you saw it. You Awakened."
"So, if I hadn't gone for a jog that night…"
"You'd be safe now. Yes."
There was no stopping the anger, the frustration. The difference of a route, ten minutes or even just feeling lazy that night. Any of those would have prevented this. Instead, he was here now having fled for his life, and with monsters all across the city out for him. Jaune's head fell into his hands.
"I know it's hard," Rebecca said and placed a hand on his back. "This is a life I've been living for over ten years now. I learned to fight back the Grimm. To survive."
"I can't fight," Jaune said.
"I couldn't at first."
"No, you don't get it. I don't know anything about the supernatural like you did. I don't know anything about fighting. I can't even stand up to Cardin. What am I supposed to do here?" His head rose. He stared his teacher in the eye. "Please, there has to be some way to reverse this. Tell me there's a way."
"There…" Her face fell. "There might…"
"Please, tell me!"
"It's not without risk," she said quickly. "Jaune, you have to understand that a part of you has crossed over into their world. That may not be intentional, but it's still a part of you. It might be possible for me to forcefully pull that back into your body, but it would be dangerous."
"More dangerous than certain death at the hands of the Grimm?"
"Well, no. I suppose not. You would be at some risk, but no more than you would be left helpless against the Grimm. That is the fate of most Awakened, hunted down and killed within days of Awakening – if the event itself does not kill them first." Rebecca stood. "Come on. If we're going to do this, we may as well do it in my office. It'll be easier to hide the evidence come Monday."
/-/
They went predictably unchallenged to Rebecca's office. Jaune knew the way and had visited it many times after his bullying incidents. It was odd to think how she'd been looking after him in school and was now doing the same with eldritch monsters. Maybe that was connected, and she was just someone who didn't like leaving others in danger, mundane or not.
Rebecca strode into her office and pulled the blinds shut. "No need to invite witnesses," she said. "The last thing I want is more people Awakening because they see what we're doing here. It's the responsibility of people like us to minimise the chances of others facing the same. Move my desk aside, won't you? I need the floor space."
Jaune hurried to do as asked, pushing her wooden desk along the floor. It wasn't all that heavy. He cleared the chairs and potted plants as well, lining them up by the back wall.
"What are we going to do?"
"A ritual of sorts. Or a sealing." Rebecca brought out a largeish hunk of chalk and started to sketch a circle on the floor. "I told you I dabbled in the occult a while back. Well, one of the first things I did – how I awakened, in fact – was that I tried to summon a monster to take revenge on my bullies."
Just like he'd imagined doing, albeit not seriously. Jaune cringed and watched as she expertly marked odd shapes and patterns on the floor. They were intricate and clearly not random, even if he couldn't understand what they were. They almost seemed to pulse on the floor.
Drip-Drip
"Suffice to say, when I was successful, I Awakened immediately. I would have died there, Jaune, but for one lucky break. Believing what I read, I'd drawn a protective circle on the floor so that whatever `demon` I summoned could not escape." She paused to send a grin my way. "It worked."
"And that protected you?"
"It did. What's more, it let me survive. I'm not much of a fighter. Never have been. But once I banished the demon and realised more were coming – before I even knew they were called Grimm – I sketched another circle around my bedroom, and later my house. It became my way to fight back and protect myself, creating barriers to keep the Grimm away. Like the one you witnessed downstairs."
"Why put one on a school?"
"Responsibility, I suppose. I have one at home but there is something about children – and I include teenagers in this – which makes them more likely to Awaken. Perhaps it's because they aren't yet set in their ways. They're more likely to dream and believe in the supernatural, which lets the Grimm in. Either way, the number of adults who Awaken is exceptionally low. It's almost always the younger generation. Knowing that someone in Vale might trigger, I placed a Barrier at the only place I could think they might run to. It was a long shot, I know. But if it could save even a single life…"
"It saved mine."
She smiled, then. "Yes. I suppose it did. As for why I'm here now, it's the Nightmare. Chalk doesn't last forever and if someone was going to be in danger, it would be during a Nightmare more than any other time."
"That makes sense." At least with what he had. "So, you were acting as a guard for the school? Were you looking for people who might Awaken, so you could tell them everything you're telling me now?"
"Not specifically. I just needed a job." She laughed. "Being an Awakened is about survival. It's not really a career. I still have rent, bills and food to pay for." She stood and clapped her hands together. "There. It's done. Step into the ring in the centre and take a seat. Sit, kneel, whatever. So long as you're comfortable. But don't smudge any of the lines," she quickly said.
He hadn't needed to be told that. Carefully, he picked his way over the symbols and shapes – Drip-Drip – and made his way to the centre. It was a ring of chalk about two metres in diameter. He could have laid in it but chose instead to sit with his legs to the side.
"What is this thing going to do?"
"It's going to act as a beacon of sorts, drawing in the missing part of your soul. That's why you're in the centre, so it can't escape and only has one place to go." She walked about the room, lighting some candles. The electricity must have still been working, but then someone might react to seeing all the lights on in a closed school. "There's a little more that needs to be done. A way to call out to what's missing."
Jaune watched her. "Meaning?"
"A little blood," she said, and produced a thin knife. Jaune recoiled but Rebecca laughed and flipped it, catching it by the blade and holding the handle out. "It doesn't need to be me drawing it and we only need a little. A few drops."
"Why blood?"
"Because it contains the essence of your body and soul. Think of it as identification, in the same way someone can read your blood in a hospital, this array will read yours and make sure the only thing coming in is something with the same signature. Don't look for logic in this, Jaune. You've already seen that nothing about this makes sense. It is, for lack of a better term, magic."
"Magic." Jaune stared at the knife. It was just a regular old kitchen knife, but a sharp one. He wasn't squeamish, but the thought of cutting himself with this wasn't an appealing one. "You're sure it has to be blood?"
"Unless you want just about anything in their world coming through for your body, yes. A tiny cut. Not a wound, not an artery, just cut your finger. I'd give you more time, Jaune, but this has to be done tonight. It will only work on the eve of a Nightmare, where the boundary is already cracked. We could try again next time, but that might be months and you would need to survive until then. More Grimm come out at these times, but they still exist and roam Vale the rest of the time as well."
In the end, it was her smile which convinced him. The same one she offered whenever she brought him to her office and looked after him. He couldn't last like this. He was already being driven insane, and he was sure those people were after him because of what he was. With a shuddering breath, Jaune brought the knife down and pressed his finger against it. It took a combination of drawing it over his skin and pushing his finger up, but he winced and pulled back, a few droplets on the end of the digit.
"Perfect. Let them drop anywhere in the circle you're in. But again, not on the chalk."
"How much?"
"As much as you can. Just let your hand touch the floor. It'll be enough."
The moment he did so, Jaune felt something shift. It was hard to place. It wasn't like a weight settling on his shoulders, but something close. His chest felt like something was pushing down on it, making it a little more difficult to move.
Drip-Drip
Rebecca stepped into the array and knelt behind him, catching his shoulders so he wouldn't fall. She gently pried the knife from his hand. "Relax. If you can feel the pull, that's the array doing its job. Your soul is split between two words. It's natural you feel stretched. It's normal. Relax."
The words, her voice, lulled him into calm. He could feel the pressure still, and breathing was difficult, but he wasn't suffocating. Jaune leaned back into her. He'd have never done so normally, but she was right there, and he was exhausted.
"You know, I never knew why you didn't just fight back against him," Rebecca said.
Sleepily, Jaune asked, "Who?"
"Cardin. We both know he's the one leading the bullying against you."
"Can't."
"Why not? Because he's too strong?"
"No. Trouble. Get expelled." He tried to phrase the words properly, but his head felt heavy. "No tolerance. Would stop bullying, but I'd be… worse trouble."
"Afraid of the teachers, then."
Of failing, really, but it was close enough. Jaune nodded.
Rebecca Farleigh sighed. "I can understand that, at least. I didn't lie in my office, you know. You're not unfit. You're not unattractive. You could have worked out, improved yourself, changed. The biggest person holding you back is you."
Jaune opened his mouth. A gasp came out. His body was cold and, he realised, wet. He glanced down and noticed that he was now sitting in what appeared to be a puddle. For a moment, he thought he'd lost control of his bladder, but it was cold. More than that, it carried an odd scent. Was that… the ocean? The floor of Rebecca's office was wet now, but despite that the chalk didn't smudge.
Drip-Drip
"It's working," she whispered, breath warm on his ear. "Some of that world is coming through. And with it, a soul."
"M-My soul?"
"Of course. I know what I'm doing. Look at me, Jaune. Focus on me." She placed a hand on his cheek and pulled his face so that he was looking to her. Her face was incredibly close to his. "You're fortunate you found me, especially before those fools could take you. Or the Grimm."
"Who…?"
"It doesn't matter. Focus on me, Jaune. Only me."
"I feel cold," he whispered. "Like I'm drowning."
"You're not. Don't look!" She gripped his cheek harder. "Remember what I said. To see is to believe. To believe is to open your mind, leave yourself without defence. We are drawing your soul back from their realm. Do not look into it or you may cast yourself there instead."
Drip-Drip
It made sense. Sort of. But the feeling of water over his legs and hands could not be ignored. He felt as if he were submerged already, sat in a shallow pool that reaching up to his stomach and only seemed to be creeping higher and higher.
Drip-Drip
"Focus on me," Rebecca whispered. Her eyes were almost hypnotic. She smiled. "If it helps, focus on my face." She pushed forward without warning. "Or my lips."
Shock, awe, and then something unbearably soft. Jaune barely had a second to process his surprise before his eyes were drifting shut, all thoughts of anything other than her stolen away. Rebecca Farleigh, his teacher, was kissing him. It was wrong. It was probably against the rules. It was sinfully delicious, and he could not pull away.
Her lips parted. Her tongue darted out. It traced a hot pattern on his lower lip and he opened his mouth both to accept it and to gasp. Her face pushed closer, arms slipping around behind him as she stole his breath away.
It felt like he was melting into her. Or just melting.
"That's it," she whispered, parting but a fraction of an inch, only enough to whisper her words directly against his lips. "Let go. Think only of me."
"Your eyes…" Jaune whispered.
Rebecca smiled. "Yes?"
Drip-Drip
"They're… glowing… yellow…"
Drip-Drip
She looked surprised, though only for a second. "Ignore it," she said, leaning in once more.
The door slammed open. The sudden crash of wood slamming back against the wall banged through the room, before something – someone – hurtled in. Rebecca's eyes widened as she looked past his shoulder and tensed, pulling back.
And then the loudest sound Jaune had ever heard. A crack so sudden it jolted his body and snapped him out of his stupor. Rebecca's head jerked back, blood splashing out from a hole in the centre of her forehead. She fell back, away from him.
He stared at her body, uncomprehending.
"Oi!" a girlish voice yelled. "Snap out of it!"
Jaune flinched. He looked back, back to the door, where a girl – the girl – stood. Red hoodie, black jeans and white trainers. She also had a gun. A gun pointed directly at him. Or which had been pointed at Rebecca.
There was fear. Of course there was. But there was a certain disconnect, shock, that had him speak the obvious instead of run. "You killed her."
"Yeah. Duh. Why are you complaining about that?" The girl's eyes met mine. Still silver, still unnatural, but not glowing. "Wait, you didn't even realise? Look down! Look at what's happening to you!"
Look? He was sat in the centre of the chalk circle still, but Jaune flinched when he noticed that the water had been building up. He hadn't imagined it. He was in what looked to be a foot and a half of murky ocean water which didn't spread to the corners of the room. It didn't leave the circle at all. Wisps of pink floated about it, likely his blood.
Drip-Drip
What was worse, the water felt… thick. Clinging. Jaune tried to push away from the girl with the gun, but it was like trying to move through thick syrup. He dragged one hand out of the water.
The water followed. It moved with him, reaching out, clinging onto his wrist, wrapping around it. Like rope made of water, it followed and kept hold of him – and it was trying to pull him back in. The water was actively trying to pull him down into it.
"W-What's going on!?" He fought against it, dragging out his other hand – with some effort – and trying to brush the water off his skin. Rather than be brushed away like droplets, it clung doggedly on. It swirled around his waist, too, trying to make him fall back. More tendrils crept out of the water, reaching up to his shoulders.
Drip-Drip
They started to tug him down.
"Shit," the girl cursed. She looked around in a panic and moved. She was unnaturally fast, inhumanly fast. Her hand grabbed the knife Rebecca had dropped. She stabbed it down into the floor in front of a chalk symbol and dragged it back across, cutting through the woodwork and the symbol in one swift move.
Just like that, the water collapsed. It fell with a splash and spread out over the floor, out of the confines of the circle and down through cracks in the floor. More was absorbed into the wood itself. Just normal, natural water. The smell of the ocean, and the pressure on his chest, disappeared entirely.
He fell, but only enough for the girl to catch him by the collar of his jacket. He was soaked. "Up!" she barked, half-dragging him to his feet. She was too small for it, though, and he had to push himself up.
"What do you want from me?"
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," she said. "Life would be easier if I didn't even know you existed in the first place, but that's not an option. Come on. Get up. Quick! Do you have any idea what just nearly happened? No, of course not." The girl was jumpy. She looked around quickly, and for the first time Jaune noticed just how afraid she looked. "You nearly became one of them. You nearly brought one of them into this world."
"What?"
"You need to get out of here," she said. "Follow the beacon. Look for the lighthouse, you can't miss it. Don't stop for anything, especially not the Grimm." She pushed him with one hand towards the door. "Move! Go!"
"What's going on? Why are you sending me? What lighthouse? Who are you people?"
"Someone will explain at the lighthouse. I can't, and I can't go with you. I have to stop this before it gets any worse. Before she-"
"It is rude to take that which does not belong to you." Calm and sensuous, Rebecca Farleigh rose to her feet. She brushed dust from one arm and cracked her neck to the side. The wound in the centre of her forehead bled profusely, but she ignored it. Her eyes were fixed on his still, and they glowed with yellow fire. "Even ruder to interrupt a meeting like that. And where are you going, Jaune? Didn't you want me to help you?"
"M-Miss Farleigh…"
"Gone," the girl said, stepping between him and his teacher. She had her handgun in one hand and she reached behind her back, drawing the large scythe she'd wielded before. "If she ever existed. This is what happens when one stares into the abyss. Something stares back. It's what she wanted for you, to feed your soul to another of her kind, leaving the husk behind for something to inhabit. Rebecca Farleigh – if that was ever her name – lost her soul years ago."
"A capricious, desperate and all too trusting child," Rebecca agreed, though now in a somewhat deeper voice. It echoed in his head. "All she wanted was to get back at those who had wronged her. You humans can be such malicious creatures." She took a step forward. "Now, I believe you have something that belongs to me, little girl."
Jaune staggered back when she stared directly at him.
"Run," the girl said, her back still to him. "Look for the lighthouse. Go now. Don't stop."
He swallowed. "But what about you?"
"RUN!"
Jaune lunged for the door, chased by a loud gunshot and an inhuman, impossible, roar.
More and more! Jaune's still running and still lacking all the answers, though he's been given a lot more now. And yes, quite a few expected Miss Farleigh of being a traitor, kind of expected whenever an OC character shows up. I'd have used a canon one, but I have roles for most of them.
Oh, and yeah, when I said last chapter "no inhuman abilities unless it's shown or said", and got a lot of "But Ruby did this…" she was obviously supposed to fall into the "unless shown" category. I wasn't saying that turning into rose petals or cutting a Grimm in half is normal.
Next Chapter: 21st October
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur
