Hey guys! Took me a while but here is the next chapter of Trail of Blood, starring Blake, two soldiers, Roman Torchwick... and Death herself.
Anyway, enjoy the chapter.
As she jumped back from yet another counterattack, Blake gritted her teeth.
The droid before her was as humanoid as a robot could be. It looked like one of those Atlasian Knights, reprogrammed to serve their purposes. The long grey coat and the burning red eyes had been added only to exhort her to fight better. The robot was fighting with an unrefined scythe, aggressively forcing her to parry, dodge or use her Semblance, something she didn't want to rely on too much.
An unforeseen strike forced her to backflip to avoid the sharp blade of the scythe. Despite it not being serrated nor wielded by a Wraith, it would still hurt if it hit her.
Behind her, safe where the fight couldn't reach him, was General Ayace Timber, currently one of the people she less wanted to be around. The man had seen through her admittedly pitiful disguise and knew she was a Faunus. Unfortunately, Timber was also just like his daughter Freya, thus a racist, and while his strict military training allowed him to hardly let his distaste show, Blake knew he didn't like to be around Faunus, even if at least he wasn't the type to start a lynch mob.
"So, tell me, Ms Belladonna," continued the man, as if the girl hadn't just avoided being slammed into the ground by a mere inch. "You said you suspect the Wraith hide in the basement. Could you explain, and possibly give as many details as you can?"
Blake wanted to snap that it wasn't the time for talking, but she knew better than to snap at the Headmaster, no matter how much she disliked him. She kicked the droid away as she tried to regain her breath. "I'm afraid we would've already acted, had we known more about them, sir," she gritted out.
"Ms Belladonna, your dislike for me should not cloud your common sense," warned Timber. "I am your Headmaster. Even if I currently have no authority over you as General, as Headmaster you are supposed to obey my commands and answer my questions. So I will make this one exception and repeat myself: could you explain your suspects, Ms Belladonna?"
Blake tensed slightly
"All we know is that everything we found point to the Wraiths inhabiting the basement," she snarled as she ferociously attacked the droid. "But it is probably asinine to think they are gonna allow anyone to find them. They are immaterial: they could just hide inside a wall and no one would ever find them."
"Unless we checked the walls as well," replied the Headmaster.
'You can't take down every wall in the basement, you idiot!' she thought, disgusted. Her eyes narrowing, she returned to the offensive.
Her new katana was longer, even if she could still fight with it one-handedly, as black a night, blade and hilt. In her left hand, instead, there was her new ranged weapon, a revolver equipped for the loading of Dust rounds, but otherwise shooting Shadow Dust rounds as default. It was a sleek and elegant revolver with a barrel slightly longer than normal.
She had called them Malasorte.
"I doubt you will be able to find anything, Headmaster," she said bitterly as she charged the droid, her katana flashing before being blocked by the robot's weapon. Taking advantage of the training bot's temporarily defencelessness, she fired a barrage of shots with the gun component of Malasorte, blowing up its right arm from mid-forearm to the shoulder, the hand remaining closed around the staff of the weapon. Using her Semblance she left behind a clone and teleported herself behind it before finally beheading the droid, her blade slashing with relative ease through the unarmoured neck of the machine. As it fell to the ground, she panted, trying to regain her breath. "And even if they do hide in the basement, searching for them can only end in tragedy... for us."
"Please, Ms Belladonna, trust in us a little," said the man, and her irritation spiked. "Do you really think that the faculty here, and my Captains, have trained for nothing? We will catch the Wraiths, no matter what."
Blake raised an eyebrow. 'I doubt that,' she thought morosely.
/- from the notes of Jaune Arc -/
Blake Belladonna
5' 10''. Black hair. Amber eyes. Cat Faunus. Colour theme: black. Mysterious. Reclusive. Well-read. Intelligent. Subtle. Suspicious. Weapon: Malasorte (katana and revolver combo. Katana: 4' 9'' per 2'' per 2'', Shadow Dust and steel alloy. Revolver: 1' per 2'' per 5'', Shadow Dust and steel alloy, automatically Shadow Dust rounds, calibre 28) Fighting style: openly aggressive, defensive use of her Shadows, if powered by Dust aggressive use of her shadows. Semblance: Shadow Clones. Guardian: Betrayal
/-/
Captain Hektor Troy almost jumped out of his skin as Headmaster Timber entered the office.
"General!" he exclaimed, standing upright. The man nodded dismissively as he took his seat behind the still shattered desk. "I have news about the my mission, sir!"
Timber seemed to perk up immediately. "Really?" he asked, surprised. "What news? Report, Captain."
Troy nodded as he took out a piece of paper from his pocket. "The style of the message is that of the Wraiths, but it's signed J. S. A."
"Jaune Soleil Arc," supplied Timber with narrowed eyes. "This is not good."
Hektor shook his head. "You haven't read the message yet," he said as he offered the paper to the man. "Not good is an understatement."
Forever lost, in the sands of time,
forever lost, it was my time to shine,
forever lost, you took what was mine,
forever lost, now prepare to die.
J. S. A.
Hektor gulped nervously despite his military training. "What now, sir?"
Timber frowned. "You already have permission to shoot on sight," he stated slowly, trying not to be misunderstood. "I suggest you swap your usual ammunition for Aura-piercing casings. Your new priority is to kill Jaune Arc and the Wraiths. You have permission to eliminate whoever stands in the way of your mission. Understood, Captain?"
"Yes, sir."
/-/
Roman Torchwick nervously walked back and forth.
The reason of his current predicament was a mere slip of the tongue, a second of thoughtlessness that lead to unwise words. Words that had now lead him to pace in a dark and humid room deep in the basement of Beacon Academy. Neo was nowhere nearby, of course, having been sent away by the thief himself to at least ensure her safety.
"Your plan is nice and all... it's a pity she won't let you run around without recruiting you."
Those had been the words that had suddenly piqued the interest of his own personal Wraith, Torment. He had personally thought Betrayal more fitting, or even Tragedy. Heck, even Heartbreak himself would've been a better `personal Wraith` than the creepy figure who now visited him daily. Since Torment had arrived they hadn't spoken a word, even if Roman could swear he heard a chuckle or two when his daughter `playfully` fought with them. Both of them were holding back, and yet the Wraith seemed to enjoy it.
But when Roman had uttered those words, those absolutely unwise and utterly stupid words, the Wraith had stopped playing with Neo, allowing her charge to go right through him. His eyes had bored into Roman's even if hidden by the mask, and for the first time, he heard Torment speak.
"Come with me," he had said, holding out a hand for the thief. Neo had looked at him, asking for the permission to follow them, but Roman had shook his head. Whatever mess he had gotten himself into, he would have to untangle himself from it on his own. He wouldn't dare risk his daughter's life for that.
And so he found himself stuck in a dark room, waiting for the footsteps he had been hearing for a while now to stop. And stop they did, but only after ten more agonizing minutes.
The thief had never really considered himself a superstitious person, but when the Wraith emerged from a wall and spoke, he asked himself how many mirrors he had broken for this to happen.
"Roman Torchwick," said Death herself, the second most scary entity Roman currently knew of, right after Cinder. But while he feared Cinder for quite obvious reasons, he wasn't afraid of Death. No, he was afraid of what Death would do to Jaune if he dared disobey her. "You have precious informations I want to hear. Who is she?"
Roman swallowed dryly. This was one of the many scenarios he had already thought of in his mind. And while meeting Death herself wasn't in most of them, he knew that mentioned her had been his mistake. But even while facing the powerful Wraith, he wasn't stupid enough to betray Cinder without anything to gain.
If only his son's life wasn't at stake.
"Unfortunately, I can't tell you anything," he said, shaking his head. "If I do, she'll know, and if she knows, I'm dead. Not just me, she'll kill me, Neo and Jaune when she finds him."
His response was quick and clipped, not giving anything away. He just wanted to go back to his office and get as far away from Death as possible. The Wraith, however, had a quite different idea.
"You will be rewarded for this informations," she assured him. Or at least, he assumed she was a female. The other Wraiths referred her as such but all of their voices were muffled by the mask. Death could even be a male, for all he knew. "With something beyond ever your quite wild imagination."
Roman wanted to scoff. Had he been with anyone else, he would've scoffed. Now, he kept his mouth shut.
"If this woman you mentioned will really try and disrupt our plan, then I will know of her, and you will be the one to tell me what I want to know," continued the black-clad figure. "I won't allow my plan to be ruined just because of one woman."
"She's not a normal woman," snapped Roman. "She could probably cook you all to death!" He winced at the irony of his statement. The Wraith merely tilted her head sideways.
"You underestimate the power of Beacon's professors," she said gravely. "They will capture or kill her. Ozpin is a man of great power. Hadn't she been afraid of the Beacon's faculty, she would've already stormed the school."
"How do you know it's about Beacon?" growled Roman.
"If you are in her plans, her target is either Beacon or Vale. And since it's unwise to attack Vale as long as Beacon stands, her target must be the school, soto weaken the Kingdom's forces and defences," she explained evenly. "I am not concerned for Vale's fate. But I am concerned about what is happening here. The Trail of Blood won't be disrupted."
Roman coughed softly to try and buy himself time. He would need a good excuse not to give out any information, but his mind was drawing a blank. He knew that telling the Wraiths of Cinder would be a very bad idea for everyone, since he knew Cinder would learn of it, and fast. But at the same time he hated the woman, and kind of had a deal with the Wraiths. "She will kill me, and many others, if she gets wind of this."
"She won't, then," was Death's easy reply. "We will contact Ozpin and he will be the one to take action."
"She's stronger than Ozpin!" shouted Roman, his own voice echoing in the room. "She would kill him as well, and then come for me!"
"You are a fool." With that single statement, Roman stopped. Death didn't sound angry, but she did sound disappointed, and in Roman's mind disappointment wasn't much better than angry. "Even if Ozpin were to be defeated on his own, he would not take action alone. And you will get to watch your oppressor die, Roman Torchwick."
"An empty promise isn't gonna convince me to sell out my life," snarked Roman. He knew that it probably wasn't a good idea to be sarcastic before the very entity who had his son's life in her merciless hands, but his stress was starting to seep through his self-control.
"Then I will add something else to your reward," promised the Wraith, a hand coming up to caress the side of her bloody mask. "Something that will change your mind."
"I highly doubt it," he replied. "Not even the shield of Crocea Mors can convince me of doing this. And I'm pretty sure you aren't going to give me back my son, aren't you?"
"I will take off my mask."
Roman went still. The usually brilliant brain of the thief vainly trying to process the words he had just head. Turning to the Wraith, he pointed to his face, as if pointing to an invisible mask, before making the gesture of taking it off. Death nodded once, her hand still lingering near the right side of her mask. Roman took a deep breath. "Well... this changes a lot of things," he whispered, not even knowing why was he whispering if they were alone in the room. "I will tell you everything I know."
And tell her he did, from how he had met Cinder to what little he knew of her plans for Beacon. The thief hadn't been told much but one don't become Vale's most wanted without being resourceful. He had managed to snag tidbits of information here and there, carefully storing them away in his mind until he had an idea of Cinder's plan, even if vague and incomplete. He told her all he knew about Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black, as well as everything he could gather about the White Fang and their recent movements.
Despite the fear he had for Cinder, the reward was too great. Knowing the identity of Death could lead to two things. If she were to turn out inhuman, he would simply stop resisting her orders, knowing better than to try and disobey a Spirit of Death. But if she were to turn out human, he would be able to turn her in, or at least tell everything to Professor Ozpin. By the end of his speech, his throat ached for water, but he ignored it to focus on the black figure in front of him. Her hand had slowly moved to grasp the side of her mask, her fingers curling under it, as he spoke, and now that he had upheld his end of the bargain...
Death took off her mask.
Nope, I'm not gonna tell you what's under her mask until the next story arc.
Anyway, I have two announcements. One is that I've drawn a crude image for Eclipsim's transformations. Here is the link:
www. deviantart khorevis/art/Eclipsim-Transformations-760788969?ga_submit_new=10%3A1535051099 (remove the spaces...)
The second is that I can officially say, the end of Trail of Blood is nearing! There are 4 arcs left, including this one. They are:
The Weapons and the Hunt
The Misty Forest
No Judgement
Warring Death
And then this fic is done for! Although I still don't know how to end it. I have two possible endings... maybe I'll write them both as ending 1 and ending 2.
Until next time,
Khor Evik Vlakhavlakh