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Chapter 12: Oum Preserve Us

Beta: AridWolfFang

A Tale of Two

There once were two

Inseparable no matter the struggle

The Bulwark, protecting its ward with its strong walls

The Planner, providing the process to which the Bulwark worked with

Yet, nothing is without flaws

And with such things were

The Bulwark was not undefeatable

Nor did the Planner's plans go as well

But with such thoughts leads to heresy

And though the Bulwark was not invincible

And though the Planner was not infallible

Together, united, bound to each other

By strings of untold future

(Past)

"I still don't believe you." Cinder stated as she stuffed a phallic shaped object in her mouth.

"..."

*CHOMP*

Nemo twitched in pain.

"Mmmph… Mmmmmph!" She continued to take in more of the phallic shaped object into her mouth.

Cinder's eyes widened a bit before she gagged and tried to spit out the offending object.

"Mmmm~ You'll have to go a little deeper than that before you reach the base…"

The shaft of said object went a little deeper into Cinder's mouth. And deeper and just a tad deeper. Maybe if she had a little more courage she could reach the base of said object. All the while Nemo was moaning and groaning up a storm. His faced flushed a beet red. Of course, this sort of thing had to be considered due to the two students in question. But it is highly unlikely that the two would ever be considered extremely intimate towards each other since the two of them were partners and teammates to boot. But that doesn't mean that the two hadn't considered romantic thoughts towards their significant other. But then again there was the possibility that they could could be romantically involved with each other.

So many possibilities. But it is possible that all possibilities could mean nothing if the face of reality where the ever shifting fates of men, women and children come into play forever making any possible outcome completely based on luck and how one should handle a situation such as this.

It is not to say that the infamous duo was putting on a show for the male populace of Beacon. Because damn, if you can shove a banana down your throat without choking and making a overly exotic face while doing so would often spell out several possible outcomes to that student's reputation. Of course, Nemo and Cinder didn't care. Those lowly peons were beneath them. Well... not really but Cinder could ignore those idiotic excuses for decent fighters. Now she had her partner's complete attention. That was saying if she finished her large serving of mushrooms first.

Which she took her Oum begotten time on. Though it was to say that she made a good show out of it. With all that licking off the sauce slowly and sexy like. It wasn't as if the two of them didn't get at least most of the male student body all hot and bothered.

She kept her amber eyes on her partner, daring him to try and get away. Though that wasn't what was going on in his head though. But Cinder wasn't a kind reader so she let it sit as if he was going to run away at any moment. If anything the girl had a very tight collar on him. Especially when she found him attempting to go jogging around the school grounds carrying a pack that weighed over one hundred pounds plus adjustable leg weights. All while still being injured from both his "accident" and their sparring match with team LEPR. Even though she won it was only due to her partner's overwhelming power and strength. Cinder was determined to at least get her partner to help help her improve her fighting capabilities if anything. That was 8th she could get her dumbass of a partner to not get himself even more injured than he already was.

Though the mushrooms the cafeteria served weren't half bad.

(Present)

"I cannot believe you would forsake the principles of this fine teaching establishment in order for you to inflict bodily harm upon members of the student body. As headmistress of Beacon I will personally recommend a early retirement for you to Ozpin, himself. Mark my words Masamune there will be hell to pay and it shall be yours to reap what you you have sewn." Glynda stated coldly as she reviewed the camera footage once more. Her face red with barely contained fury.

"..." Masamune only continued to look past the angry woman and contemplate the meaning of life as he rolled beside her. His wheelchair quickly put to use when the Blacksmith was in need of it. Being forced to retrieve the tossed aside vehicle of bodily transport when the scary witch lady "asked" him to follow her.

"You do understand the consequences of your actions will not be simple nor something you can just simply shrug off. I do not care if you have amnesia or not. The way you handled the situation was far too extreme for any huntsman or huntress to exact upon those still in training. Now, would you like to enter the elevator first so that it will be easier for us to see Ozpin." Glynda elegantly waved her arm in a 'before you' motion which quite frankly offended the Blacksmith in question.

Cinder poked her head from behind the corner, watching silently alongside her two cohorts/minions/apprentices. She was especially interest into the background of the Blacksmith since the mention of his loss of memory. Such a mental handicap should be considered a problem for a professor of such an esteemed combat school it is highly illogical to hire someone with that problem in the first place. Due to the fact that the man in question was fully capable of taking down at most twenty-plus students ranging from first to fourth year bullies using only his hands, feet, and their own weapons against them and with a frightening amount of skill for someone who was supposed to be confined to a wheelchair without the help of leg braces to support the weight and movement of his legs. Many thoughts ranged throughout Cinder's head from the Blacksmith being a possible spy from another school to a highly skilled undercover White Fang operative sent sent by Adam Taurus. She even considered the man to even be her dead Fiancé though the possibility of her fiancé even surviving the initial explosion and his wounds, the self damaging aspects of his semblance should have rendered his entire nervous system useless and unresponsive due to the fact that in order to even produce that amount of power needed would have used used the remaining amount of his bodily produced electricity. Thus causing the already heavily injured hunter to fully succumb to his wounds without his nervous system to to help regulate the flow of his Aura.

Emerald and Mercury continued continued to listen to Miss Goodwitch's rant and lecture towards the Blacksmith wondering if Goodwitch and Professor Port were related in any way. For a Headmistress, Glynda Goodwitch could easily match Professor Port for lung capacity and ability to cause extreme boredom of any poor sap who happened to listen in. All the while Cinder continued to think of the possibilities of the Blacksmith being a possible threat to her small plan of world domination, after burning Beacon to the ground, setting most of Vale ablaze and dancing upon the burnt ashes of those responsible for the death of her beloved.

Who is to say that love made people do crazy things in order to avenge the ones you love and yet lost so very quickly. To the point of where you would set the known world ablaze and laugh as the flames take you knowing that at least you have avenged your loved one and would see them in a theoretical afterlife.

After all, that was what Cinder had planned to do.

(Past)

"This was a terrible idea." Cinder grumbled.

Currently she and Nemo were trying to figure out how to make Nemo look like like a male. Unfortunately many if not all plans that Cinder devised and executed were all doomed from the start. As anything that was to change the appearance of Nemo only resulted in the hyper-feminine male gaining more male followers and worshippers, who thought his attempts at being being a male were a quirky personality trait. It didn't help that Nemo only spoke like a true male around her. In all honesty it was was kinda annoying and the fact that her partner in question was completely useless in things that weren't fighting or involving the stretching of the physical kind- wasn't doing the Amber eyed girl any favors.

Why do I even bother with trying to fix the problem in the first place. And I still haven't got Nemo to tell me who he was and where he was from other than he was from the east if his stupid song lullaby thing was anything to go by. And how in in the in the name of all all things beloved by Monty was was he able to fully dismantle his bed and use the leftover parts to make my bed better. I mean it IS a nice offering to his beautiful and totally benevolent Goddess of a leader that I am, but we have to draw the line eventually.

Cinder thought long and hard on her current dilemma that she failed to keep her eyes on the road. Though Nemo steered her through the crowd of students without a problem, though if she paid any mind to the way he was leading her through the crowded hall of students would probably end in another "punishment" for him. It was clear to Nemo that Cinder was the alpha in their team having overpowered the young man their first night as an official team together.

While Cinder continued to walk down the halls deep in thought that she could avoid a lot of what passing students were saying.

"Psst... did you see how hot that silver haired girl was?" Whispered one of the passing students to his friends.

"Yeah, she's a total babe shame her tits ain't developed. I mean a girl ain't nothing without 'em." Replied his not so subtle pervert of a friend. Gaining much disgust from the females around him.

"Hey, did you see that amber eyed chick? She'd be pretty hot if it weren't for those glasses of hers." Whispered another student. His friends gave both positive and negative feedback on his opinion though in a more subtle way.

"Hey did you see that tall girl? You know, the one with long silver hair? I bet she had her hair dyed like that. I mean there's no way a person can get that kind colored hair and face without some kind of work. I mean hello~ that's kind of impossible. Though I would love the name of the person who did that kind of work." Whispered a huntress-in-training to one of her friends.

"Didn't you hear? That girl with the silver hair tried to act like a guy, Ha! I bet you she was a slut in her old school and she's going to be one here." Whispered another female student.

And thus was only the start of the problems that the two would face. For since the amount of first years entering the school being much, much smaller than those upper class men it was inherent that those who resided in the upper echelons of the school would look down upon the survivors. Except for those who attempted to mingle and befriend those above them, which was the entire first year except for two.

(Professor Port's Class (Past))

"Miss Niemand can you please give me the known scientific names of the well known stages of Beowolf evolution?" Professor Port asked. This was the first time he had asked such a difficult question, more often relying on his tall tales to drive the point across.

Nemo nodded and stood up, his face straight and completely serious. In fact he looked far more intelligent than he usually did, which wasn't saying much.

"Of course. The names are in order from youngest to oldest; Neo Grimm Canis Lupus Minor, Neo Grimm Canis Lupus Juvenis, and Neo Grimm Canis Lupus Major. While the minor Beowolves are the most well known it is documented in historical texts such as the 'Lexicanum Grimm' that the Juvenis aged Beowolves are much more rare to find than a Major. However, further studies as well as detailed drawings from sources like the 'Lexicanum Grimm' depict the Juvenis' physiology is quite similar to the Minor or common Beowolf." Nemo ended his short speech with a nod from his head and a small bow before resuming a sitting position.

The silence in the room continued for a few minutes before Port released a loud laugh that quickly spooked the rest of the Grimm studies class back into action.

"Bravo Miss Niemand, it seems to me that you may have many surprises in store for us! Why you remind me of when I was just a young but very strapping lad..." he rattled on and on for the rest of the class. Giving many of the students a very surprising but well received nap.

All the while Cinder just gaped at her partner. Not only was his knowledge on the subject spot on but also of his knowledge of one of the most rare and sought after texts in the world. Even owning a single page of the 'Lexicanum Grimm' would set any person for life for two to three generations. Such was the power of knowledge of an enemy much older than you.

Perhaps this side of Nemo was one of his sides. Though Cinder knew she wasn't going to get anymore out of him until later. Meanwhile, Cinder had to find a way to be able to have Nemo teach her about the Grimm. Knowledge was power, and power against the nemesis of mankind was better spread than contained.

If only she could convince Nemo to actually sit down and talk about his past. No songs, no chants, no poetic language, and definitely no changing or avoiding the subject. There are things that were needed to be shared.

(Ozpin's Office (Present ))

"Masamune, it has been brought to my attention that you have gone too far when punishing students. Even to the point of almost sending the majority of them to the hospital for immediate care, however I will allow you to speak your case before I render judgement." Ozpin narrowed his eyes at the Blacksmith, unable to see the man's true feature from behind the gauze mask.

Masamune looked behind Ozpin. His eyes narrowed and his voice carrying a dangerous edge to the words.

"I simply demonstrated what may happen if certain groups of students come into the forge to monkey about. If anything they should learn that there are people watching- though it may not they are able to in the first place. Horrible things occur to the sons and daughters of hunters/huntresses or both. In fact the racial differences and supposed 'racial cleansing' that the group that barged into my forge to bully my apprentice. As both a Hunter and Professor of this prestigious school only to find such abhorrent behavior to be a very large mark of disappointment for. Please explain why hasn't anyone taken the steps to atleast make the lives of the faunus population residing on campus a bit easier. When the students start to discriminate and bully one another for simple differences in appearance it is highly unlikely I will tolerate that behavior for very long. While I agree that my method was extreme it is not without reasoning." Masamune finished his words with a slight nod of his head.

Ozpin however placed his hands under his chin and rested his elbows upon the cool surface of his desk. His eyes staring straight ahead, not heeding the bodies of his two compatriots. The silence that engulf the room shortly after was stifling to say the least.

Ozpin continued to quietly think to himself while Masamune and Glynda did their own things, such as glaring in disapproval at their opposite. Ozpin sighed loudly, signaling the two to listen to Ozpin's next words with rapt attention.

"While Masamune's actions were extreme and dangerous. It can be said that he did so with the proper justification. Glynda, I need you to look into the racist hate that has appeared in the school and deal with it accordingly. Though I expect that doing so may make things worse. Masamune, I would like for you to stay and listen to a request I have." Glynda frowned and was about to argue the logic behind Ozpin's reasoning but was cut off by a curt "You may leave now." From Ozpin.

Glynda nodded and left the room quickly. Ozpin pulled out a folder from his desk and placed it on the table. Masamune looked at the folder in question with a confused tilt of the head.

"This mission if you choose to accept it is to track down and eliminate a criminal organization that is reportedly attacking our students. While most cases until now were small and far spread out it has come to light in more recent days that several rather large groups of our students were attacked and nearly wiped out if not for the quick rescue by my informant. These attacks have happened almost one day after another. While I understand that you are having issues with your memory, it is still a requirement and duty as a member of this staff to protect and ensure the lives and well being of the students who attend this school." Ozpin paused and allowed his amnesiac Blacksmith to say something.

"Wasn't there someone else you can rely on instead of me?"

Ozpin nodded as if the question Masamune asked was of any significance.

"While that is true, I cannot send anyone else out at the moment. And you are the only staff member whose time schedule isn't constrained to the curriculum, while still being able to teach a very necessary skill to students. I can however, send Miss Goodwitch to come and assist you should it be needed. Though her help may come much later than you expect."

Masamune merely nodded in compliance. His only question remaining spoken and answered behind closed doors.

(Downtown Vale)

"Officer Jones, please be on alert. You are currently in a hot zone. This is where the reports of screaming and gunfire have come from. Remain alert and call for backup should the zone becomes too heated."

Vale PD Officer Michael 'Mogar' Jone, caffeine boosted bright eyed and bushy tailed, approached the area his hands making suspicious sounds as they clenched and unclenched repeatedly. Michael looked back at his custom muscle car, the "00M0GAR" or the "Double-O Mogar", debating whether or not he should bring out the one weapon he was allowed and that rose sniffing bastard wasn't. Oh how he simply pressed the trigger and a spray of lead so righteous and just that only the mighty Mogar was allowed to use it, outside of the military of course.

Deciding that the situation called for it, which most time did-though only to Mogar's opinion of course. Michael raced back to his vehicle popped open the back of his trunk and brought a M-134 military grade Minigun out to play. Now most non-hunters wouldn't be able to lift the weapon so much as use it without a recoil absorbing vehicle mounted pintle mount. But thanks to the gift of technology, such things like heavy lifting require the use of either Aura boosted people, robotic workers, or the rare but rather efficient Bionic. Bionic replacements were both expensive and risky and it took almost all of Michael's hard earned lien in order just to pay for the surgery, the replacements however took a very large loan and then some.

Bionics were non-hunters and huntresses who had either one or more limbs removed from their body, either by criminals or Grimm, but were not affiliated with the military or else they would have had access to the more advanced cybernetics. This meant they can either retire early due to the sudden loss of limb or limbs, or would go about to seeing if they can purchase a set of bionic limbs for a rather hefty price which is almost twice as expensive if not more than the operation to attach said limbs. However this granted said disabled citizen to gain most non-semblance physical properties of a Hunter or huntress, such as near inhuman strength, speed, or sight. Though most times a Hunter or Huntress can still defeat a Bionic for the Bionic was still a non-Aura boosted person. But most Bionics were either in the police, private security forces, bodyguards or heavy laborers and are not often seen in jobs of commercial value depending heavily on the tasks requiring.

Mogar being a policeman was one of the few officers with bionics as he easily lifted the heavy weapon and marched into the reported area- where most non-bionic and non-hunter personnel would struggle. Mogar examined the building in detail, it was a standard four storey apartment building in the lower than middle class area. If any of the non-gang marked walls could say anything about it, which there were none. It was a standard home for those who couldn't afford to move up in the commercial and economic ladder or lacked the necessary values and personal respect to even consider more legal and safer job routes. If anything the state of the building was nothing out of the ordinary if you didn't count the large holes sticking that stood out like a freshly beached whale on the tiniest strip of beach.

Approaching the main entrance into the building, Mogar understood immediately that some shit went down and hit the proverbial fan so hard that the proverbial owners of said fan had to get a bigger and shinier version which also broke under the shit storm that went down. There was blood everywhere. This was no mere understatement, there was liters upon liters of blood everywhere in the main entrance. The owners of said blood was strewn about on the floor, the walls, the furniture, and the ceiling.

*A/N: If you have a possible trigger to the following words please feel free to searchbar search the word "Orange" or the Double Line Break. This will get you out of the really gory bits.*

Mogar felt queasy as he opened the door, and reeled back to find that even the doorknob was covered in blood. He shook his head in defiance of his stomach and set foot into the blood soaked main lobby.

Oh dear sweet Monty, what the fuck happened here? Why is there so much blood?

Mogar looked around the room slowly taking in the horrid and morbid image displayed before him. At his feet lay a severed arm which appeared to have been pulled out of the socket if the joint and torn flesh told him anything. Above him were several torsos shoved through the concrete floor, creating a bloody spiderweb design as the torsos still continued to leak blood, stating that these bodies were freshly killed. Taking another step forward, Mogar nearly tripped upon a bloody skull with its bloody spinal cord missing most of itself along one side.

Mogar paled at the thought of someone who had the capability to do such damage in such a area. He walked over to the greeting desk, though the skewered misshapen head lead to no thoughts of a pleasant greeting went on here. The eyes of the dead person were rolled up and their mouth was open with their tongue sticking out, it would've been comical if there had not been blood just about everywhere on the person's face. Though the skewering wasn't by the desk itself no, it was the nameplate of the person who was working there, possibly the head though that would stretching it since the nameplate was covered in blood as well. If anything Mogar should've laugh at the gratuitous amount of blood that was splattered but was still in a small mental shock.

Deciding to man up and nut up, Mogar walked up the bloody stairs, where there were more bullet casings and slash marks than blood, but still enough to cover most of the stairs. Though the amount of bodies littered about only reminded Mogar of a overly violent children's toy area where corpses were strewn about in haphazard and sometimes even comical poses though not without missing a few limbs here or there. Not to mention that most of the weapons that remained in this area were used to impale or horribly mutilate the person who was using it. Frankly speaking, seeing five pistols shoved into various angles on a person's head was more than enough to prevent Mogar from looking around even more. But as an Officer of Vale, he had to familiarize the kind of ability this murderer or murderers were capable of. If only he could've prevented the ending of all these lives, if perhaps the crime was reported while it was underway, then maybe. Just maybe.

Continuing his long trudge over the blood soaked steps, Mogar got a glimpse at the next level of hell. Lighting fixtures used as a improvised hangman's noose as corpses swung gently by their intestines tied firmly around necks, legs, and just about anything that the intestines could be tied on. In some sort of morbid fascination, Mogar approached one of the hanging bodies and tried to see if he could get a facial recognition via his Scroll's camera. But upon closer examination, any possibilities of getting a facial recognition was dashed as the face of the person was torn and heavily misshapen- reminding Mogar of the skewered head downstairs. Mogar examined the body and found that the person was heavily beaten with bruises covering most of the cadaver, perhaps with a heavy blunt object. But the bruises varied extremely between each one, with some being smaller than his hand and others being almost as large as his head. The trend continued amongst all the bodies that were hanged, those that were not were either covered in bullet holes or were slashed up something fierce.

Looking to the left and to the right, Mogar noticed that the hallway towards his left was barricaded as if trying to prevent someone or something from entering from the left but the ominous blood puddle that seeped underneath the firmly stacked furniture told another story. While the right hallway was clear, there were many rooms he had to search through and most of the doors that should've been were not there. Mogar had to follow the right since going straight would lead him straight into a wall, though how that particular wall escaped most of the blood splatters is an amazing thing in of itself. Though the sight that greeted him when he looked into the first room was just as chilling as the one he saw when entering the building itself. Bodies littered the room, stacked haphazardly, pinned against the wall with the remnants of the room's furniture, body parts used as makeshift shivs as they stuck out of randomly, bones still bloody broken and reshaped into grim tools of stabbing, and the worst of it all was that Mogar couldn't even see a head in the room- only splattered brain matter mixing in with the scarlet and brown hues of the room. This sight persisted throughout the rest of the rooms, the only differences between any of them was how many bodies were in the room and how blood soaked each room was.

Shuddering as he exited the last room, this time the room was filled with bodies remolded into crosses as broken and shattered furniture were impaled hands and feet, forming a grisly and cruel interpretation of a crucifix. How anyone took any pleasure in the massacre of dozens and still was able to stay sane but had that morbid fascination of doing such heinous acts to the human body wasn't fit to stay human as they did not have the capability of being "human" or having a possible conscious that tells him/her/it right from wrong. Mogar could simply shake his head at the possibility of him even able to tell this person apart from normal people, if they were able to act "normal" at all.

In the last room, there was a hole in the ceiling, but something was much more different in this room than all the others, instead of dozens of corpses thrown about this way and that. There was only the startling imprints of people spread all across the walls. Mogar was startled since this room was intact, meaning that the explosion that was used to kill all these people was contained in some form. Which meant that this person had a very powerful semblance and knew how to control it, or that this person was a genius or a prodigy- perhaps even both- when it came to explosives.

The ceiling of the room seemed to have imploded upwards, with the force of the explosion being relatively controlled so that the building didn't have a giant gaping hole in it. As such the upper floor had a large hole in it, with a large burn mark on the ceiling showing where the rest of the heat had dispersed to. Looking for a way, Mogar had to go out and into another and drag a large dresser into the room, leaving his precious weapon resting on the burnt ground as the heavy dresser still required two hands even with his bionic enhancements.

Taking a deep breath, Mogar readied himself and his weapon and jumped from the dresser and grabbed hold onto the ledge and hefted himself up. Though the sight that greeted him was a bit similar if not slightly skewed from what he was expecting. Burnt bodies and chargrilled corpses were thrown about the room, surrounding the epicenter of the burnt hole on the ground. The smell was nauseating to say the least as Mogar tried to ignore, but couldn't fully. In all the things that went on in the building, the smell of burnt flesh and hair coupled with the non-existent bodies down below took the cake so far. But with two more floors to ascend, the odds of finding something much more horrifying kept escalating.

Exiting the room, Mogar was greeted with a surprising twist. An empty hallway with no blood, no bodies, and no extreme visions of artistic violence. Though this worried Mogar much more than the the blood soaked floor below this pristine and untouched one. If anything from the sight of the floor below seemed to desensitized the police officer. Continuing forward and examining each room, Mogar found nothing. It was if the entire floor had evacuated by some divine providence or from the screaming of the unfortunate victims below.

Mogar found a large hole at the end of the hallway, at first it wasn't noticeable at a distance, and upon approach one could see down into the hallway below- this one leading behind the barricade and revealing the disemboweled corpses and mutilated cadavers. It was a sobering sight as atleast the murderer seemed to be in some sort of rush and didn't go ahead and attempt to fully remove or disfigure the faces too badly. In fact Mogar took the chance to take a picture of the bloody corpses below and send the picture to an analyst in order to get a more advanced facial recognition from the lab than from his Scroll.

Mogar snapped a few pictures, making sure only to get the most detailed pictures for the lab's sake. Though he expected that the analyst wouldn't be pleased to receive a picture from him of all people. After all between the two of them, he was the one who wore her dress after the wedding much to her chagrin and enjoyment. Though he believed that she was still shocked that he fit without tearing or stretching the fabric.

Mogar didn't do anything as he awaited a response from the lab. He just hanged his feet off the edge of the ledge and swung his feet as he thought about what kind of sick person could still be anonymous at this point of time. Usually they would either mentally go insane and go on an even larger killing spree or they would become socially deprived due to the weight of guilt that should persist after the event but with the amount of seemingly fresh blood it threw any theories of the person going insane out of the window.

Mogar couldn't believe it. He just couldn't. The amount of fucking luck or just the amount of fucking research this person actually did. The amount of death while in excess and overabundance, would lead to a more peaceable downtown area. Looking back on the conversation he had with his wife, Mogar continued to look for a way up.

(15 minutes earlier)

"Michael… You wouldn't believe what the shit I just uncovered. Those pictures you sent me…"

Mogar could barely hear the voice on the other end, it wasn't because the person who was talking to him was trying to be quiet but more like she was forced to be quiet in some sort of revelation or major discovery.

"What? What did you find?!" Mogar nearly shouted into his scroll, though he was sure his wife would probably kick his ass when he got back to the station.

"Well… Did you know about that really dangerous gang that had connections to many terrorist organizations? Only staying just under the radar by keeping their activities real low?" Lindsay Jones whispered back.

"Kinda? I don't really pay attention to that kind of stuff…" Mogar scratched his head as he said that.

"YOU FUCKING MORON! PAY MORE FUCKING ATTENTION TO THE FUCKING SHIT THEY FUCKING HAND OUT! SERIOUSLY!?" Mogar flinched and almost dropped his scroll.

"Anyway! Pay attention! This gang had recruited both Mercs and Rogues as the middleman and took a huge cut of the deals. As a result they can hire on Rogues and Mercs for real cheap since they are the ones who dish out the assignments and hand out the orders! Get it?" Lindsay was pretty excited as she continued to tell Mogar more about what the gang was but never really giving him all the details. Mostly keeping the confidentials as confidential, which was agreeable since maybe it wasn't in the best interests to tell a person who was liable to tell this off to his friends at the bar later on.

"Oh! Okay! Got it!"

(Present Time)

Mogar examined the third hallway. It seemed that the results on this floor was much more extreme than the first floor. Bodies were displayed in a grotesque and horrid vision of art. The large and small intestines of a gang member were used to not only strangle three others but were skewered and presented in a way that showed that the killer had some sort of artistic side, as they displayed as some sort of disgusting human tree. And there were dozens of these trees displayed throughout the hallway. Each was unique and bloody in their own unique ways.

Even the ground was used in some sort of artistic spree, the combined intestines of all the bodies-while still being attached to the trees themselves- created a sticky and squishy floor that somehow represented a bloody version of a forest floor.

Mogar almost puked as he neared the end. The walls were painted in a twisted version of caveman paintings. Images of the person or persons depicted in the drying blood of his or her victims, images of the killer killing the victims or prey in varying and brutal means. In fact there was an image of the person killing several with the bodies of two dead compatriots. Another image showed how the person or persons made the trees and forest ground. All in all if such a person were to continue to inhabit the world even though they only went after gangs, Mogar would personally put three hundred pieces of lead through their head and body. Even those with the greatest intentions could be lead astray by actions committed to them or by them, especially if they did actions with such brutality and cruel imagery as to send a message.

Ascending the stairs to the fourth and final floor Mogar prepared himself for what was going to be a long night of drinking after this.

SNITCHES GET STITCHES

FORGIVE BUT NEVER FORGET

THE INNOCENT SHED BLOOD, YOU WILL BLEED MORE

MONTY WILL NEVER FORGIVE

YOU ARE GUILTY OF ALL TREASON, THE SENTENCE IS DEATH

"Holy fucking shit..."

Mogar could only gape and look horrified. Bloody words both painted and carved into the walls of this floor. There wasn't a single body that wasn't cut open and whose organs were thrown about. It was like the people on this floor were treated like toys and were dealt with as such. It was as if they didn't have a single chance of fighting back.

Mogar knelt on the bloody ground and examined the nearest body. This person was wearing a black suit, very much like an elite mook or personal bodyguard. But the person's weapon was still in his holster, a heavy caliber revolver that doubled as a brass knuckle. Examining the remnants of his face revealed that he was taken by surprise. This scene persisted throughout the rest of the cadavers even as he got closer to the largest and gaudiest doors in the entire building.

It seemed as if the person or persons in question took the entire hallway by surprise and wiped them out in a similar fashion. There wasn't a single person who had a weapon drawn, which was surprising as even the most surprising of attacks would result in one or two people having their weapons drawn and pointed at the person in question. Nevertheless, Mogar moved forward and pushed open the doors that were overly gaudy in his point of view.

He was greeted with a totally family friendly scene. Bodies of scantily clad women, disemboweled and dismembered, scores of dead bodyguards, and several bloated bodies of men whose stomachs had been ripped out from behind as they attempted to flee. And at the very back was the remains of some sort of wheel as it was gracefully shoved into what remained of someone who was sitting down, but was pulped and mashed into a vibrant pink version of a meaty mash potato.

Mogar took pictures of the rooms in the building and left, quickly putting distance between him and the horrid things he had discovered inside of it. When later questioned by friends on what he had found inside the building, Mogar would just shake his head and decline. Stating that such things were too much for comfort.

However, He would search for evidence that the person or persons who committed the atrocities inside the building. Hoping to find and arrest the person who did it, as they didn't leave any evidence or fingerprints on anything they touched. But he would never discover anything worthwhile and would never.

(Beacon)

Masamune was busy sharpening the blade of Weiss's Rapier and was examining the blade, he had taken apart the blade a few hours earlier and tempered and treated it further. He examined the completed product and put it on display, letting the maker take the blade whenever she felt like it.

He sighed and sat in the corner of the massive forge, twiddling with the ring he kept so precious. Masamune could only twiddle and fiddle with the ring, always looking and always alert for some sort of secret hidden in the metal that would tell him who he was or who the other half belonged to.

Of course, he had some clothes drying near the blistering fire of the forge. Almost as if he wanted to burn the red and brown clothes. But that consideration was something to be considered if he was in any means a person who usually wore red and brown.

And as the clothes continued to dry, a small untouched splotch of white revealed itself on the clothing.

A/N: Yay! I did it! I finally got this one finished in time of my personal deadline! Woot! Thank you for being patient my wonderful patient readers! I hope this one is up to standard or beyond, but that is pushing the point with me. If anything I hope you guys enjoy what you read!

P.S. As of the uploading of this chapter I am currently at Pax Prime. Hope to see you wonderful people here!

P.S.S Though I may not see you I hope you have a wonderful rest of the Summer!

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*Note there shall soon be Omakes at the end of these chapters! Look forward to it!