…
It's been over a week since the last update, so I stand true to my word.
The rest of the author's notes are at the bottom.
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Something was wrong.
The being stirred, as if roused from a deep slumber. That in itself was the problem. It shouldn't have been able to wake. It was supposed to be-
"Get up Jaune."
"Nnnn~"
Saphron Arc was unsympathetic.
"Jaune Arc." she tore the blanket off, revealing the teen who scrunched his eyes at the light, "You're thirteen, not seventy. Get up. Breakfast is ready and you have chores today, same as me and everyone else. Mom says 'don't even think about spending time with your friends 'till they're done.' Now hurry up, don't keep us waiting."
Jaune sat up with a sigh, blinking sleep away. He looked around his bedroom as his sister vacated. He had stopped rooming with his younger sisters about a year after Jasmine first left for Beacon. He was glad for the change, his older sisters had started corrupting his sweet younger ones the summer between third and second grade. If he had stayed with them any longer, he would have been treated like a life size accessory doll. He still was, but it was only every now and then, rather than every day. If he had to deal with it every day...
*Brrr…*
He debated sitting there for a few minutes, the thought of even lying back down crossed his mind. He ixnayed the idea, and stood up. If breakfast was ready, then he had better get changed and get downstairs. An impatient Momma Arc was a bad Momma Arc.
Three of Juniper's daughters had just finished setting the table when her son shuffled into the room.
"It's awake!" She cried in mock surprise as she handed a plate laden with French toast to Lana, now nine years old.
"Ahahahahaha…" was Jaune's soft yet overly dramatic reply(complete with facial expression, what an actor), sitting himself down at his spot.
His spot had become more traditional now than tactical. Daphne, like Jasmine before her, had graduated from Beacon, and her time there had done the job of cooling her confrontational nature. She also, like Jasmine, had decided to move back home, and assist the local huntsmen in protecting the town and surrounding settlements.
Juniper wouldn't dare point any fingers, but the dinner table had gotten a whole lot less rowdy since someone *cough*Daphne*cough* had learned to behave.
Soon, the rest of the family came in to seat themselves at the table, barring David and their two eldest daughters who were out on missions, and their fourth daughter Emily, who was currently studying archaeology in Vacuo. Juniper joined them a moment later, studying them all as they passed and served portions around the table below with a soft and warm smile.
She looked at Saphron with her bootlace necklace, an interesting and unique accessory that suited her rather well. She had made a discovery of herself a couple of years ago, one that had made David far too happy. He wouldn't have to worry about men coming home with that girl. She herself was unaffected by the reveal, though she did have suspicions. In the end, it didn't matter to her, for she loved her just the same(besides, with seven other children, grandchildren were all but certain anyways). She had been the first daughter to not go to Beacon, though she did attend Signal.
She examined Coral, who would soon be starting her final year at Signal. She was a level-headed girl, with a sharp mind behind a pair of round glasses that always seemed to enhance the intelligent gleam in her eye. She had initially wanted to attend Atlas academy after combat school, an idea that Juniper found intimidating. She didn't like the idea of having a soldier for a daughter. Fate had opted to throw her a boon however, as her daughter had found a new passion in writing. She would be returning home after she graduated to further her passion. Apparently, she had a knack for romance novels, though she never really showed her mother her works. It was probably from bashfulness. She had never been very artistic in nature before.
Amberly and Lara were both doing well in their respective grades, both proving to be just as popular as their sisters before them. Both had started training with their father, and were proving to be just as skilled as their sisters in combat. Amberly herself had taken to training with an extreme gusto, the events from when she was six having stuck in her memory half her life. Little firecracker that one.
Finally, her eyes came to rest on the lone male child in the family.
The past couple of years had been kind to her son. He had been rather short as a child. Now, on the verge of becoming a teen, he had shot up at a speed that had shocked her and David, though it really shouldn't have. They had gotten too used to the growth of girls, a short burst in the beginning followed by a constant growth that slowly petered out. Meanwhile, it sometimes felt like Jaune grew an inch each night.
Perhaps it was a result of a more positive environment at school? Juniper liked to think so. In her mind, the transition could not have arrived sooner. Though it could have been a great deal less negative in the beginning. The event that kicked off the change could not have scared her more.
Five years ago.
Juniper lay, panting, on David's chest.
The kids had gone to school now. It was her day off, Dave was back from a mission, and she and her husband had found a rare but opportune moment to have the house to themselves.
It was a chance rarely seen, and they took it with a hungry ferocity that came with having to spend most of the year keeping recreational activities confined to the bedroom.
In their hormone stimulated brains, their romp in the living room had been a justified means of celebration. Their baby boy had made a friend! He was no longer alone! And it was a girl at that!
Okay, well, it most certainly had not been a means of celebration(that would have been creepy), but it was a result of earlier celebration.
It had started with simple comments. Juniper, ever the pragmatic one, despite being more open with her emotions, had lauded Dave's looks as the reason for their son's small, but no less profound victory. Her boy was just too cute. He couldn't have been alone forever with his father's genes.
Dave, being the stoic, but absolutely honest and romantic doofus that he was, claimed the victory lay with Jaune inheriting his mother's will and drive. It had always enthralled him when they were younger. Still enthralled him actually, and never failed to get a fire going in him either.
One thing led to another, and then there they were, naked on the couch. Good thing the kids were gone.
"Somebody was rather ferocious just now." She commented with a breath.
"Consider it me getting mine." David gasped out.
"What do you mean?"
He tilted his head enough to get in her line of sight, a playful, yet stern, frown on his features.
"You made that comment at the bullheads on purpose." He accused her in that delightfully adorable tone of his.
She snorted. Of course she did. Jasmine had called with a rather red and livid face when she got to Beacon. Really now, her husband could be such a child.
"Figured that out, did you?" She asked.
"I'll be lucky if Jasmine ever talks to me again."
"You're the one who made the scene at the bullhead by hugging her and loudly demanding that she stay away from the boys." She pointed out. "And really, she'll get over it. She'll stew a little bit, but she'll come mewling back eventually, you made her such a Daddy's girl when she was younger."
Dave's train of thought had obviously decided to go on a journey, because he chuckled a few moments later.
"Remember that time," he asked, "last year, when she had tried to stall us so that the others could put Jaune in a dress?"
Juniper groaned into his chest in response. How could she not. She could see how his mind went there, her actions back then had been just the same.
"I blame those comics coming out of Mistral lately." She moaned. There were some people over there with some very eccentric tastes.
The phone rang in the house. Archaic technology, but still useful for situations like these, when they were both nude. David patted her arm.
"I'll get it." He offered, and she slid off him, sitting on the couch. They'd already have to clean it anyways. Dave got up and strode into the kitchen out of sight.
The ringing was replaced with his voice a moment later.
"Hello, this is the Arc residence." He answered jovially, someone was still euphoric from certain activities. But then his tone became confused, and almost… wary. "Yes, this is his father…"
Juniper couldn't help but frown in intrigue, the use of a male term could only mean the person was calling about-
"What?" The intrigue became concern.
"A fight!?"
Very rapidly.
She was in the kitchen in seconds.
"...Well, did he wi-" Juniper took the phone from his hands, shooting him a stern glare with the phone to her ear.
"Hello, this is Mrs. Arc." Her voice was pleasant. Her face was not.
"Ah," the speaker, a male, was put off by the transition, but carried on shortly, "Mrs. Arc, this is Mr. Stoff from the Elementary. As I was telling your husband, your son had a scuffle with another student today."
She fought, very hard, to not narrow her eyes at how damning that sounded in her ears, like her son had started the fight. Surely, not her son. Jaune was just too gentle. It was that, coupled with his birth that made them agree that he should never be a huntsman.
It also sounded rather watered down. He was withholding information. That would not do. If anything happened to her baby boy, she needed details now.
"Is he hurt?" Whoops, accidentally made that question sound threatening. She… didn't care.
Mr. Stoff heard the underlying tone, plain as day, and proceeded to try and give the information diplomatically.
"The other boy's more injured than he is, but he's rather banged up himself."
"How, bad, is it?" Don't you dare try and beataround the bush.
"From what we can figure," the man seemed nervous, Brothers knew why, "the fight had started off pretty normal, shoving and hitting, until young Mr. Arc scratched the kid who then took a roc- ah."
The man had already been having a long day. Two students had seemingly tried to kill each other, leaving every single person in the chain of command above the teacher's with an absolute mess of paperwork, courtesy of law from Vale. He hadn't meant to reveal so much. He had tried cutting himself short. Too little, too late.
"You mean to tell me..." her voice was calm, and her face bore no expression. Dave looked worried, "that someone took… a rock… to my son?"
A son who had no aura, and lacked any techniques of self defence. David's face went pale, and his eyes were wide in… shock? Horror? Fury? It was probably fury.
That's what she was feeling after all. A rock...
The man was silent. It answered her question.
"...Mrs. Arc, perhaps it would be better if you and your husband were to come down to the school in person." He "offered" after a time. Coward just wanted to end the phone call.
"Yeah, we're going to." She could tell by Dave's face that she had unknowingly adopted 'the look'. Thin lips, rapidly blinking eyes, and a brow furrowed in disappointment. Simple in expression, but it had never failed to terrify her daughters, or her husband on occasion. Really, a rock...
"Goodbye." She hung up the phone without waiting for a response. David turned and strolled with disguised haste to the bedroom, she didn't need to tell him the plan.
Before the day was out, heads would proverbially, or literally, roll.
"A fucking rock."
The rest of that day had a solid mixture of all sorts of emotions making for a harrowing rollercoaster. Horror at the extent of injuries on their son. Disturbed shock when they were told that he had been cleaned up before they arrived, and had looked worse. Happiness that it wasn't worse. Anger at the revelation that her son had been bullied for a year without them realizing.
Betrayal from the fact that their son never bothered to tell them. Grisly pride at the fact that he had been defending his sister, and had managed to come out better than his opponent had. Righteousness indignant fury at the passing mention of expulsion.
He hadn't been expelled, thank the Brothers. She might have actually gotten violent if they pushed for it. In a pragmatic sense, he had defended himself, if excessively. He hadn't been expelled from the school. However…
Neither had the bully. They had been outraged, obviously. The boy hadn't even been moved to a different classroom. That option wasn't available, the school was simply too small.
Instead, the option given, the only one given, was for a select individual from the city to council the two children, and let them talk to each other in "guided sessions"(Juniper knew for certain that her parents would have been dumbstruck from the idea. In fact, they were). She and her husband were told it was a new idea brought forth from Vale's council to aid in instances of bullying. She personally thought it was bullshit.
She had asked her son how the "discussions" had gone after the first session. He… didn't tell her. That had hurt. A lot. But he had, remarkably, seemed a tiny bit more positive. And David had somehow convinced her, confoundable loving bastard that he was, to simply let it be. So she did. Amazingly, each session seemed to have the same effect as well.
She knew that it wasn't a result of the program. Not directly. Perhaps it had provided a neutral ground for the two factions to meet, but she didn't believe it had had any effect on his personality, not for a second. No, it was, at long last, a bit of her husband's nature showing in his son.
Because of course! He had to go and end up befriending the brat who took a damn rock to his head. Damn her husband and his forgive-and-forget nature. No, more like damn men in general.
She remembered being very very stiff the first time Jaune had brought Nathan to the house, but then he had brought him over again, along with that sweet girl Holly(and oh, wasn't she precious?), and then again, and again with other children. Soon, she was feeling more childish than her own child, holding a grudge against a boy who was brash, but nice overall, if a bit simple at times. It was infuriating as it was heartwarming.
It had also, unfortunately, brought on a conflict recently between she, her husband, and their only son, one they had vainly hoped would never happen.
Nathan was going to combat school.
Jaune was not.
It was a decision made between David and Juniper when Jasmine had first shown interest in being a huntsman. Highly selfish of them, but justifiable at the time. Her boy had almost died at birth, and up until very recently, had been much smaller and seemingly frailer than any of their daughters were at that age. Than anyone's children actually. Not only that, but aside from that one instance five years ago, he had also shown zero signs of any aggression as well. Up until then, and even afterwards, he hadn't so much as attacked a fly. He just didn't have the drive to fight.
Because of those reasons, they had never given him training like each of their daughters, worried that the stress of it would break him. At this point, even if they did enroll him, it would do more harm than good. He would be literal years behind everyone else, and in the bloody world of huntsmen, such a disadvantage would see him killed.
Juniper knew that for her huntsmen daughters, there would always be a risk every time they had set out on a mission. It terrified her every time, and it always would, but her daughters were prepared for it. In a very morbid but realistic view, if one of them… never came back, she would always have six more to hold close as she cried. Jaune was her only son, their only son. She had already come close to losing him once, she couldn't bear to see it happen again, and again, and she knew for a fact that the rest of the family thought so too.
Unsurprisingly, Jaune had discovered their decision before they had had the chance to discuss it with him. It certainly didn't help that they had trained their daughters in combat and not him, a stupid oversight on their part. It was bound to happen eventually, he wasn't dumb. Dense? Yes. Dumb? Heavens no.
Her smile dipped at the five month old memory that surfaced.
That confrontation had been… distressing, for everyone. Jaune never screamed or yelled, Juniper didn't think he was even capable of doing that. But he had certainly come close, the most aggressive he had ever been with any family member. He had begged and pleaded, demanded to know why with tears and teeth, and it broke her heart to see, but she and Dave had been firm, if only just barely. He would not be going.
He never understood their adamant persistence. How could he? He had never had his own child marked for death, only to be brought back through sheer chance. Brother's willing, he never would.
She didn't have to read his mind, even now, there at the dinner table, to know he still didn't agree. But he wasn't as angry as he had been before. Hopefully, with time, he would accept it. She didn't want to actually bury him. Brother's forgive her for selfishly crushing a child's dreams.
"Are the chores listed on the fridge?" His voice from within the morning chatter snapped her out of her depressing musings, and she put up a bright facade once more.
"Yes," she answered as bright as she could, "once you finish those, you can go spend time with your friends."
He nodded acknowledgement. His mood was definitely improving. At least, even with Nathan gone, he would still have other friends here with him.
"...Leaving?"
Holly nodded with a grimace.
"...Shit." Jaune slouched with a sigh. Holly winced from the language. Normally, she would berate him for the foul utterance, but he figured she was making an exception for today.
"...Wow." Nathan commented, biting his lip uncomfortably, "Mistral, huh?"
"Yeah…" she confirmed.
"Your dad's work, I take it?" Jaune asked with a humorless smile.
"Mhm. Some big people over there want him back in the scene. Some girl's getting big in the tournaments, so they want him to help train her."
"Isn't your dad pretty good? That must make her super good herself if they're asking for him then, right?" Nathan asked. Most likely, but they were probably offering a lot in addition to that.
"Yeah, they say she's a child prodigy." Holly responded. Jaune was slightly intrigued, you don't see or hear about those very often. He leaned forward on the log he had been sitting on. They were in a small clearing, a favorite hangout spot for the three of them. It was a few hundred yards out of town, a questionable location, but the risk was lowered from the amount of local huntsmen patrolling the surrounding area. Plus, they were budding teenagers, they didn't care.
"How old is she?" He asked. Holly shrugged.
"Same age as us, near as I can figure."
Damn, but wasn't the world just unfair?
"Well," Nathan chipped in, probably looking to brighten the atmosphere, "isn't there some new musical group of guys making it big over there? You get to be closer to them. Lot of idols already over there too. You get to be closer to the 'cute boys' at least."
Holly glared at him. Jaune knew she regretted, many times, bringing them over to her house where they saw the posters adorning her wall. The teasing had never stopped, even after she had taken them down one day, claiming she had found someone better, though she never divulged who. Jaune figured she didn't want to risk getting teased again, a wise move on her part.
Holly soon cut her glare and turned to look at him nervously. He was pretty sure he knew why.
"You don't like it, do you?" She asked. Yup. Still as smart now as she was when they first met. Actually, she was smarter now. Getting older did that to you.
"I don't," he admitted, no real point in blatantly lying, "but I can't really be mad at you or your mom and dad. They're just doing this cause it's a way to get money and food on the table."
It made sense, unlike his parents and their decision not to train him. They hadn't even given him a reason why.
"Not jealous of Holly getting closer to the musical Mistralian boys?" Nathan asked. Jaune was thankful for that, it got his mind off where it was going.
He shrugged in response. He, like many others, had heard the music coming from the eastern kingdom lately. It… didn't impress him. Not much of the more modern music did. It's not that he didn't like music, but he always felt that the stuff he heard lacked something. Maybe he was giving the industry a disservice. Lately, he always found himself humming familiar tunes that he could swear he had never heard in his life. It was incredibly vain to say it, but the songs he came up with in his head always felt more… alive. He didn't enjoy Remnant's rock or pop genres, not nearly as much as Holly, given her glare and blush towards Nathan.
"I told you, I don't like their music," he reminded his male friend, before turning to the lone female, "I don't know why you like them, but you do. So you got that at least. Plus, you're good at making friends, you should fit right in in no time."
Holly looked weary. Why? He added a compliment!
She sighed and shook her head.
"When do you leave?" He asked, deciding to get back on topic.
"Two weeks." She responded glumly. Not a lot of time. Nathan would be leaving for Signal the week after, and school would start the one following that. Jaune sighed.
"Well, at least we can hang out a bit before that, when you're not packing that is." Nathan nodded in agreement.
Holly hesitatingly nodded, rubbing her arms. Nathan also hugged himself as well, as if it was cold. Kinda weird. Out of the three of them, Jaune was the most susceptible to chill. He hated the cold. And snow. To borrow a phrase from his dad, it was bullshit.
"I think that I'm gonna head home." Nathan announced, "I want to get some more training in."
"I should probably start packing some things as well." Holly agreed. She stood up from the rock she sat on. They took a moment to look down at Jaune questioningly, who was still sitting down. He didn't notice them, he was deep in thought.
"Jaune?" He was brought out of his musings to see them looking at him in concern, "Ya coming?"
Jaune pursed his lips.
"I think I'll stay here for a moment." He decided. They gave him looks of bewilderment.
"Why?" Nathan asked.
Holly sighed.
"Don't get any stupid ideas, please?" She pleaded.
Jaune smiled in bemusement at the request.
"Why'd you say that?" He asked.
"Because when you and Nathan are without me, you do ridiculous things." Jaune rolled his eyes. He comes up with the idea of tipping a cow in its sleep one time, and suddenly he's a buffoon without Holly around.
"I don't want to visit sometime in the future and hear about you doing something dangerous, like trying to join Beacon without training and then getting yourself killed." Ah. Well. He had thought of that. Only thought though! And it didn't include the 'getting killed' part. That would be a terrible idea then. Besides, who would be willing or able to help him get in without training anyways?
"I'm not that dumb Holly," he defended.
"But you are close." She teased.
He snorted, then made a shooing motion.
"Just want to rest for a bit. I won't do anything stupid, Nathan's going with you."
"Hey!"
"Just want to relax for a bit. My dad and sister's cleared this area a few days ago, you don't have to worry about me." He finished.
Holly looked skeptical, but relented.
"Alright... I'll see you sometime tomorrow then."
"Right back atcha." He shot her finger guns, then waved to Nathan, "see ya dude."
"See ya Jaune."
They turned and left. Jaune watched them go, somewhat able to make out their conversation before their voices disappeared with them in the brush.
"You're an idiot."
"Whaaat? I was trying to help-"
Like an old married couple, Jaune observed with a smile. He was almost certain that Holly liked Nathan, though the larger boy was extremely oblivious. It was plain as day.
His smile slowly faded as he took to staring at where Nathan had stood.
Five years it had been, since that fight with a boy he now considered a friend. He still dreamed of it sometimes. The punches, the clawing, and the stone. He could never remember how it ended, it just blurred into a haze after Amberly had been knocked down, something she most definitely wouldn't let happen again(at this rate, she would be more likely protecting him, and wasn't that just manly?).
While he couldn't remember how it ended, he could still remember how it started, and the underlying reasons leading up to it:
His… imaginary friend. That voice that haunted him since he had turned six.
Amazingly, his prayers as a seven year old had been answered. Following him regaining consciousness, it had disappeared. It had never bothered him again. Unexplainably, so had his strange dreams of weird and unsightly men and monsters. He dwelled on it sometimes, and what it meant, something he felt was far too old to do for a thirteen year old like himself. All in all, he was glad they were gone. It had ceased his reputation of being a 'weird kid'.
One thing that did persist though, was his other dreams.
Places he had never been. People he had never seen. Songs he had never heard. Events centered on humans that he felt had happened, but knew for certain never did. He chalked it up to just being what they were; dreams, or at least, very vivid dreams. He was just happy that he dreamt of people in shapes that were actually possible.
He had learned to never share them with anybody, save those he found to be pretty darn funny. One in particular was of a man coating an entire store's wares with a fire extinguisher after he had been refused a refund for an antique scroll. Little things like that.
He was never made fun of for sharing those things, though some people occasionally gave him an odd look. They would have had to have been there with him to appreciate them.
Nathan never teased him for them once, a small kindness on his part. He knew not to bring up bitter memories.
Jaune, alone in the clearing, allowed a frown to cross his face.
Bitter memories…
He couldn't help but remember when Nathan had joined Holly and him, a big goofy smile on his face as he announced his going to Signal and that he had begun training.
Jaune knew that his sisters had had training, had noticed that he himself had never received any. He still wasn't receiving any by that point, and it was frustrating. Nathan's announcement had been the straw that broke the camel's back.
He had gone, determined, to his parents to ask for training. They denied him. Thus the fight started, a back and forth of demands and denials that was vicious for the relationship he had with his parents. In the end however, it had all been for nothing, and his parents had stood firm to denying him.
He was still aggravated about his parents' decision. How could he not be? All his older sisters had received training. Hell, Amberly had training. Lana was starting training.
Why did he have to be treated so differently, the one boy in the family?
He tried to find an answer. Spent minutes there on the log, adding onto days total of hypothesising in futility, before shaking his head in exasperation. He had no idea why, and the answer would most likely have to come from his parents. Maybe Caroline, that deer faunus friend of his mother and his own godmother, might know, but she rarely visited, and most likely sided with them in their decision. She would also probably tell him that it wasn't her place to tell if he asked her. Godson he may be, but she was very loyal to his mother.
Well, he definitely wouldn't get the answer here in an old forest clearing. He probably wouldn't get it for some years anyways. He'd better start making his way back home, he wouldn't want to make his mom wait for dinner. An impatient Momma Arc was a bad Momma Arc.
He stood up, turned towards the direction of Ansel, and began to make his way back to the town.
It was a step forward that kept him alive.
The air behind him displaced as something considerably larger than he was slammed into the ground, the force launching him forward and onto his face, a good six feet from where he'd been standing.
He was stunned from the landing, slowly lifting himself up to cough and spit out grass and dirt. What the hell just happened? A shadow slowly descended over him, telling him that he was not alone, and that something or someone had caused his unwilling flight. If it had indeed done so, then it probably wasn't friendly. It might even be grimm, he had heard stories of them quickly populating areas cleared of their slain kin in the past.
He needed to get away.
He didn't get far.
He was grabbed, hoisted by the scruff of his neck and then tossed, this time definitely flying a good twelve to fifteen feet before landing and rolling an extra seven. He might have gone further, but a tree stopped his tumble as he crashed into its trunk with his side.
The world spinned. Blood was roaring in his ears. His ribs hurt, his arms hurt, and- well, his everything hurt. But the sudden frantic attack was flooding adrenaline through his bloodstream now, human instinct warning him of a life-or-death struggle, like those few short years ago. He stumbled to his feet with a wheeze, to at least see his attacker if nothing else.
He kinda wished he hadn't.
A humanoid figure, with black gleaming skin so smooth and oily-looking it was unnerving. Two giant leathery bat wings extended from its mid back, unfolded and twitching. It had a lithe yet hard physique with muscled arms and a broad chest. Its legs had two joints, bowed like a goat, and leading down to feet that would be considered human were it not for the fact that the toes were half a foot long at the shortest and tipped with wickedly curved claws. Its hands were of a similar design, though they possessed only three digits aside from a thumb, two of an absurd length and the last almost comically short in comparison. Atop it's impossibly smooth and faceless head sat two horns curved inwards, and behind its body, a barbed tail lashed through the air silently.
It was a demon.
A demon had come to kill him.
Jaune was frozen from the sight.
"W-w-wha-wha-" He couldn't even form a word.
But someone could...
WHAAAT!?
Jaune cringed and gasped in terror.
He hadn't heard that voice in five years. Now, in this sudden and living nightmare, it was back.
Why? Why was it back? Was it the voice of the creature in front of him? It didn't sound like it. It sounded like it was as shocked to see the monster before him as he was. Were the two seperate then? They must be. If so, thank the Brothers for small mercies.
But, that also meant they were separate. If it didn't belong to the thing in front of his eyes, then who did it belong to? Where did it come from?
It didn't answer, he didn't know why he expected it to. Damn thing was still just as unhelpful now as it was back then. So, he barely, just barely, decided to ignore it. It was unwelcome, but familiar to him, and hadn't ever tried to kill him like the monster just did. Thus, the attacker was deemed more important, but only just barely.
BUT… HOW?!
Only just barely...
The demon said nothing, it just looked at him. How? It had no face. Sunlight glinted off its oily skin as it shifted about. It turned its body, head still focused on him with mechanical precision, and began to move to his right. Even the way it walked was horrifying. It never swung its arms, and it stalked on its tiptoes in that way one might imagine a thief sneaking through the night would. It's body wobbled back and forth in eery and terrifying grace with each silent step. And still, that head remained focused on him, tilting from and against its body to remain unnaturally upright.
Now that the roaring of blood in his ears had died down, he noticed that the monster literally made no noise. Each demonic footfall was disturbingly quiet, as was the flapping of its great wings. It stepped on a branch and he didn't even hear a crack. Were it not for the fact that it had tossed him twice now, Jaune would it have thought to be his imagination.
He wished that it was.
An unseen queue was given, and the demon hopped a few feet, bent low, and began to zigzag towards him.
Drop! Came the frantic order. Jaune obeyed, and just in time. The demon lunged, aided by unseen forces and covering the distance between them in the blink of an eye with an arm outstretched. Its large clawed hand missed his head by a barest inch.
A horrific crunch was heard above him, and Jaune had to wonder briefly if he was even alive.
Roll! Jaune complied, and five horrendous toes speared the ground where he was lying before. The world started spinning again, his body protesting from being made to undergo the same action it had been unwillingly forced to do a moment ago. He stopped several feet away, and stumbled onto his feet, dizzy and afraid.
The monster was staring at him again, though it didn't move. Jaune could see why; its hand was in the tree. Its hand- its fingers- had stabbed through the tree. His head had been there a moment ago.
He looked from its hand and back to its face, hoping to find eyes, a nose, teeth, something to look at aside from the glint reflecting off its dome.
The glint shimmered as it turned away from him to study its hand. It tried pulling it out, and failed. It was stuck. Jaune was glad for the reprieve.
But then it took its other arm and braced it against the trunk and flexed. To his growing horror, the fingers started sliding out.
He didn't stay to watch it free itself, that might as well have been suicide. He took off running. He didn't know which way he ran, he just picked a direction and did so. His thoughts were scrambled. He could vaguely hear that voice that haunted him as a child saying something, but he didn't understand it.
Brush cracked, snapped, and crinkled as he tore through bushes and branches, passed trees and rocks in his escape.
He didn't know how long he ran, but he knew that he couldn't run for much longer. He was battered, and already exhausted as the chemicals slowly wore off.
He needed to hide. He needed to hide and wait for this… this… this monster to hopefully forget about him and move on. Something was telling him that it wouldn't, but he was already running on fumes and didn't have any other option.
He spotted a hiding place, an old and grass covered cobblestone wall, remains of a building from a forgotten past, and lost to nature. He glued his back flat against it, panting. His eyes were wide with fright as he scanned around him.
He didn't see the thing. He didn't expect to, he ran away from it after all. As his breathing lessened, the silence of the forest began to set in. It made him uncomfortable. Where were the birds? Squirrels? Rabbits? Where were those?
The quiet was nerve-wracking. Jaune realized that he preferred the thing that attacked him to stay in his sight than out of it.
Dare he risk a peek to see it?
He dared. There was no sign of the black demon.
That terrified him even more.
He had already stayed too long. He needed to get out of here.
There was a whisper on the breeze in his mind. Unearthly hisses that made him close his eyes in despair. He knew what was coming. He had hoped it was just his mind playing tricks on him. That it was just a dream, that this was all just a dream, but he remembered those signs all too clearly for it to be anything but.
It won't stop looking for you, the… thing he could hear, but not see, told him, damn things are as single-minded as a black hole is dark. It will follow you all the way home…
His eyes snapped wide open at the thought.
What did it say? It would follow him? Home!? That… that might not be a bad idea! Everyone back home was capable of fighting! His mom, his older sisters, his…
His younger sisters.
A fresh look of horror passed over his face, this time from himself. What on Remnant had he just been thinking!? Leading a monster back home!? What if his family wasn't able to kill it? The freaking thing punched through a tree! He might as well be pointing a gun at Lana and Amberly's heads himself!
No. He would not be leading this thing back home. He would not be putting his family in danger.
Cemented in his selfless decision, Jaune felt once more that foreboding breezy prelude.
Well, the voice started, if you must bind yourself with the foolish notion of protecting your actually trained kin at your own risk, then your only option will be to kill it.
… Kill it?
Kill it!? HIM!? That monster just threw him around like a toddler throws a toy! Its arm went through wood like butter! How the fuck was he supposed to kill it? Trick it off a cliff or something? It had wings!
Hardly an impossible task. Those fluttery troglodytes are rather lacking in power.
Was that supposed to make him feel better or something? Cause it certainly didn't. And why, why did the voice sound so calm? Was it like the demon? Was it a demon? It didn't have any of the bony protrusions of grimm. The voice's statement did nothing, save to grow hundreds of questions now storming through his head, questions he wanted- needed- answers to.
"What even is that thing?" Jaune asked, his voice barely creeping from his lips in so soft a manner as to be silent to anyone more than a foot away. "How do you know what it is? Who are you? Where are you?"
No answer. Again. Despite his fear, he couldn't help but turn pissed. He was not up for playing the voice's game right now. Not with his life on the line.
"Talk to me dammit!" He hissed, striking his fist against the wall he braced against.
That had been a mistake.
A shadow above him was his only warning before a clawed and blackened hand clamped around his throat, pinning him to the wall and cutting off his next breath. It pulled upwards, dragging jagged and misshapen stones against his back in his ascent before flipping him around to see the monster up close, perched on the wall above him.
Even face to face, and less than two feet apart from each other, Jaune still could find no physical features on its head. There weren't even pores. Its skin was impossibly smooth, like glazed ceramic.
It tilted its head as he struggled in its grasp, his weight alone crushing him down on its evil paw and constricting his airway. And then, it began to squeeze.
Jaune's eyes bulged from the pressure, his puffed out lips trying to form words without sound. Spots began rapidly clouding his vision. He tried digging his fingers between the monster's own and his neck to pry himself loose, but they were as firm and hard as the wall he'd been cowering behind. It was choking him to death.
Tears sprang up at the revelation, blurring his vision and distorting the monster. He was gonna die here, killed by a monster alone in the forest. Would he be found? He didn't know if he wanted to be. It might just kill his mother as well if they found him with a crushed neck, blue lips, and bloodshot eyes and purple tear-stained cheeks. He didn't want her, or any other member of his family, to see that.
He had no warning for when the voice spoke next. Maybe those hushed mumbles were there, but he didn't notice them.
Then don't let it kill you. Said the voice, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Easy for it to say, it wasn't being strangled.
Is that an excuse? It sounded aggravated, perhaps a tiny bit desperate even. Jaune suddenly noticed, in his oxygen deprived mind, lucid and far away, that the voice had not been responding to his actual sentences.
Are you wanting to die, spawn? No. Of course he didn't want to die. Who would?
Then fight back. Fight back? Against this thing? How? It was literally crushing his neck with one hand.
Fight!
I… I CAN'T! Jaune argued. How was a thirteen year old supposed to fight back against a literal monster? That job was only possible for huntsmen and warriors, not an untrained boy like him.
There was an inhuman growl. It sounded warped and tainted, and angry beyond reasoning. Its next words were profoundly familiar to him.
Stop. Being. Simple.
Jaune remembered those words. He always remembered those words. Those were the words that put him into a week of dull and aching pain. Those words were the reason he still bore scars on his forearms. Those were the words that nearly got him brained by a rock. Those were the words that had resulted in Amberly getting grabbed by her hair and tossed to the ground like a ragdoll.
Those words had changed his life when he had used them. They had nearly gotten him killed. Now used against him, he found that he hated that phrase.
Jaune lashed out with a gurgling roar at the monster.
The world spun as the grip on his neck jerked away. There were flashes of brown, grey and green assaulting his vision before his body slammed into something soft but solid. He found himself staring at leaves high above his head.
He'd fallen. The monster had let go of him. He briefly wondered if maybe he had just woke up from a dream, but knew that wasn't true; the throbbing in his neck disproved that idea.
Finally! The voice cried, and it sounded joyful. The maggot bites the bird back! Sensational...
Jaune gasped, sucking in deep the air previously denied to him. His eyes darted from the trees to the wall where the demon had been, to everywhere around him. He heard the cracking of wood and branches, but they were leading away from him. Why were they leading away? Did the monster run?
Hmph. Your hope is as futile as it is aggravating. It will come back once it's landed. Night Gaunts have no concept of self preservation.
A… a 'Night Gaunt'? Was that what the thing was called? Why was it called that? Was that a 'night' as in 'sun-down', or 'knight' as in the fairytale?
Neither makes sense, he reasoned, still delirious from his previous choking, it doesn't look like it saves princesses and if it is 'night', why would it be out during the day?
A question I find myself asking, the voice answered, although my own isn't as hideously inane or babble-filled as yours.
"How can you respond to me?" Jaune asked, "I'm not saying anything."
He realized a moment later.
Can… can you hear me? He asked with hesitation.
Astounding. The voice commented dryly. You are actually capable of learning. I almost thought you completely obtuse. Your thoughts of your female companion certainly supports that idea.
Was… was it talking about Holly? What did she have to do with this?
Please don't prove me correct, that would be most disappointing. Now, if you wish to survive, you had better get back up. It's coming back.
How do you know? Jaune asked, getting unsteady to his feet regardless.
It isn't that hard to sense. It's rather livid about you striking it.
Uh-huh, right… well, he had no doubt that the… Night Gaunt was probably angry. He remembered being angry when Nathan had first shoved him.
It's back. So it was. Long thin and alien fingers grasped the top of the wall, hoisting up the nightmare made flesh. It was pissed. It didn't need a face for Jaune to know that.
It also looked, surprisingly, like shit. The membranes on its wings were torn and mangled, it's skin was covered in dirt, sap, leaves, and specks of ruptured bark. It was also covered in scratches, thin gouges running along its chest and limbs, the deeper of which oozed an unnatural purple sludge. Jaune, frankly, was taken aback by the sight.
What the hell happened to it? He wondered.
Y… yo… you punched it. Did you forget that? The voice sounded disbelieving, and Jaune could relate. There was no way he did that much damage.
...Just... The voice actually sounded weary now, he could also relate, but he didn't know why it sounded so. He was the one who had almost died.
Just kill the thing already.
Easier said than done. Jaune grumbled warily, as the two stared at each other.
It's… it's really not. Just follow your monkey instincts and hit it until it dies.
But I'm not a faunus- SHIT! His enemy was done studying him. It lunged from the wall, one arm cocked to its side, the fingers ramrod straight and pointed at its chest. It intended to spear him again, just like it had tried before.
It… maybe it was just him, but it was... slower now, incredibly slower. Ridiculously slower, in fact. He'd almost lunged out of the way on reflex, but the sight left him dumbfounded, staring incredulously at the sluggish monster that moved through invisible molasses.
Don't just stare at it! HIT IT!
Jaune hesitated, but brought his arms to his right side. They also moved slow, but not nearly as slow as the Night Gaunt. His hands clasped together, fingers intertwining to make a fleshy hammer.
Just about the only thing that might hurt it, he reasoned.
Jaune braced, and he swung, fists flying up to meet the head of the monster.
He screwed his eyes shut at the horrible 'crack!' that issued from the point of contact. For a tiny moment, he could feel its skin, deceptively rough, ironically so even.
Then the feeling was gone. The splintering of wood to his left snapped his eyes open. He was still looking at the stone wall, his improvised hammer held out to his left. The Night Gaunt… wasn't there? Where was the Night Gaunt? Surely, he didn't just…
He looked over, entranced. It had sailed, sent by the force of his blow, thirty feet before a tree had impeded its flight. Unlike the tree he himself had rolled into earlier in the day, this one had been unable to endure the force of its catch. It had snapped, torn in half from its unwilling missile. The top of it had been bowled over from the Night Gaunt's kinetic force. The bottom was partially uprooted. The Night Gaunt had rolled across the trunk, snapping boughs and branches before it came to a stop where it lay next to the separated portion, limbs thrashing and wings twitching. It was easily an extra twenty feet.
Jaune couldn't help but look down at his hands in wonder. He had done that?
Marvel stupidly at your simplistic actions later. The voice was most definitely impatient. It's getting back up.
It was indeed, raising a leg in the air and swinging it back down for momentum and pushing itself onto its feet, facing away from him. Even with the blow, it still possessed a shred of unnatural grace.
But that was all it had left, because if it looked angry before, it looked unreasonably beyond livid now. Its hunched body trembled with rage, toes clawing into the dirt. It's clawed fingers flexed and twitched, and its tail lashed and stretched like a roaring flame. Its wings, well, one of its wings, folded and unfolded rapidly. The other hung uselessly, it was broken.
It whirled its head over its shoulder to look at him, and Jaune could see violet flesh on its "cheek" where he had struck, tearing the skin off entirely.
One more blow like that should end the cretin. Supplied the voice.
You sure about that? Jaune wondered, eyeing the Night Gaunt doubtfully. It survived the other two…
Third time's the charm, as you humans say, and Jaune definitely noted its use of the term 'human', better make it a solid one.
Jaune braced himself, spacing his feet and putting his center of gravity low. His form was terrible, but then again, he literally had zero training.
I want answers, he demanded.
Mm… the voice responded neutrally.
You had better not run away again.
I am hardly capable of that, though I've been tempted to try. Why did it have to sound miserable? The voice's owner just seemed to radiate the term 'asshole'. And why did it have to be so vague?
He couldn't ponder for long. The Night Gaunt surged towards him, twisting around and bending low to race on all fours. It looked like the scene of a horror movie, a humanoid shape, bereft of human qualities, and embracing the behavior of an animal, like a lion with wings charging him down.
But Jaune had been exposed to the nightmare long enough now. Its eerie nature was starting to lose its effect. It also helped that he was capable of hurting it. Majorly so, in fact(if not entirely). If he hadn't wounded it, it surely would have left him a sniveling broken mess to be easily preyed upon.
Emboldened by his success, Jaune was through playing the reaction game. He charged, sprinting towards the oncoming monstrosity. There was one thing on his mind; making sure the thing did not get up to attack him again. He was sick of looking at it.
So focused was he on the task, that he failed to notice how unnaturally fast his charge had been, covering almost half the distance in the blink of an eye. He reared his fist back, flying forward with an empowered step. The Night Gaunt jumped, rear legs springing out like pistons for it to fly towards him. It must have been dazed in some way, for both its arms were extended, as if it simply aimed to grapple with him rather than pierce him like it had tried to earlier.
Jaune yelled, his fist rocketing forward past outstretched claws that smacked his shoulders. Its reach was insanely longer than his was. That didn't matter as they buckled from his unstoppable momentum.
Knuckles connected with a scratched, bleeding, and gleaming faceless face. They didn't stop. His fist, unrelenting in its advance, sunk further and further into alien skin and flesh, compacting the cranium around it, which flexed and morphed from the blow. Its head bulged further and further to the sides. And then, it popped, exploding like a watermelon left to the brutally mechanized mercy of an industrial power-hammer.
Skin tore like stretched cloth, bone shards blew in all directions as if they were shrapnel from a grenade. Flesh was ripped entirely from the force exerted upon it, flying off to chase the organic shrapnel before giving up and raining down as blood-soaked macabre confetti. There was no brain matter, for its inner workings were entirely foreign to natural law.
His arm didn't stop in its flight, and his hand sunk further into the neck, splitting it apart like a blackened banana peel, and ripping open the Night Gaunts chest as it passed through. Foul organs squelched as they were pressed further and further down, before bursting out between the legs and tail, pushed through by his clenched fingers.
Nature deemed the damage an acceptable fine for the speed the two had connected at, letting the mutilated corpse slide on Jaune's arm and shoulder, past his widening eyes that were quickly splattered and blinded by gore. The damaged body launched past him at the same speed it had been going previously, as if he were but a knife that had carved through meat.
He heard it impact the ground behind him, a wet squishing sound that put his hair on edge. He toppled over from throwing his body into the punch. His eyes stung of purple and green, and he tasted indescribably disgusting slimes in his mouth.
Jaune gagged. He retched. He vomited, spewing his mother's previously delicious lunch onto the ground beneath him, a sickening and generous gift to the untasting grass.
He started crying. Whether from the puke, the taste, the gore in his eyes, the whole ordeal, or the ghastly combination of all four, he didn't know, and didn't care. He tried rubbing the filth from his eyes, but used his arm that he had struck with, doing little to wipe it away. He used his other hand, succeeding this time, cheerfully greeted by his acidic spew beneath him next to a sludgy and purple hand.
He honestly had to wonder if he had won. Delirious he was, his mind nearly broken as the stress of the last hour caught up and took its toll. Was it done? Had he beaten it?
He twirled wildly, falling to his side in the vomit and slightly wincing before pushing himself up onto shaking legs. His head snapped to and fro, scanning around before finding the Night Gaunts carcass.
It looked butchered. It had landed on its back, its arms and legs twitching slightly. The tail squirmed on the ground like a dying snake. Its chest had been blown open all the way down, ribs splayed wide and empty, torn guts leading a grisly trail back to him, the deranged and deviant scientist who had dissected it.
The sight made him heave. Nothing came forth, the bile from his stomach had already vacated, leaving him dry heaving with a painfully clenching gut.
How barbarically artistic of you. The voice sounded chipper.
It sounded delighted.
"WHO ARE YOU!?" Jaune screamed, gripping his head with a dry and a dripping appendage while shaking. His mind had snapped. Drool was spilling from his panicked lips, and his eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets.
Ah, well, we can't have that. It's entertaining, but it goes against what I had originally conceived…
It was then Jaune felt it; a wave of calm. It was a forced calm, one that left him wanting to panic even more, but he was veritably incapable of doing so.
Much better. It said, though it sounded like it was trying to assure itself more than anything.
"What- what?" Jaune swallowed, staring at his gore-soaked hand, clenching his jaw repeatedly.
"What did you just do to me?"
I 'fixed' you. He could hear the air quotes there, it obviously didn't like what it had done.
"Who are you?" Jaune had to force himself to hiss "What are you?"
I am many things, boy. It answered with an aggravated tone, But right now I am the one who stopped you from spending the rest of your life a gibberish screaming meatbag. Be grateful. I didn't want to...
Its… spell, or voodoo, or whatever was starting to wear off now, whether that was intended or through the force of his own will was unknown. That's not to say that Jaune was starting to twitch and froth at the mouth again, he just felt that bewilderment rearing its head once more.
"What… What are you?"
Questions for another time.
Jaune snarled.
Don't be simple. I'm doing you an added favor! Your matriarch will start to wonder where you are soon. It's almost time for your evening consumption.
It was almost dinner time?
Yes. What's the phrase you recently took to using again? Ah, yes. The voice morphed, and it was only because he had heard it in recordings that Jaune knew it was his own.
'An impatient Momma Arc is a bad Momma Arc.'
Jaune shuddered. He didn't want to eat anything right now, he might just throw it back up.
Fuck, I want to do that right now anyways, he amended, staring down at his wet and dirty attire. If he was to go back home, he'd have to have a very good excuse for their state. Either that or wash himself.
A wise decision. I doubt you want your kin to see yourself as you are right now. Its voice had gone back to what it was before, indescribable.
Just, he sighed, just shut up until I get back home. I have a million questions already- I know. -and I really don't need your comments. That might make me go crazy again.
If you do, I won't 'fix' you a second time.
Well then, shut up.
Jaune started walking.
"Where. Have. You. Been?" His mom's voice made him wince.
He was late. Spectacularly late. Technically, not his fault; he had been forced to sneak into town after failing to find a water source outside of it. There was a river on the other side of town, but that would have taken ages to get to.
There was an old house separated somewhat from all the others, its owners having died and left the settlement as worm food long ago. Nobody ever touched it, or went near it, whether due to superstitious reasons or its lack of being in the way of any construction plans in the recent years. It had a water spigot and hose outside that still worked miraculously, but that was probably due to the plumbing feeding directly into a nearby aquifer.
Jaune had washed himself there, hiding from anyone who might have passed by. Obviously, his clothing was soaked, despite his best efforts to wring it out, but he had been successful in washing out the Night Gaunt's visceral remains for the most part. There was still some left, but on his black hoodie and drenched jeans they were easily hidden.
"I," he couldn't find himself to look her in the eye, both from the fire within it, and his sudden ineptitude at lying, "was out by the river…"
Juniper Arc looked murderous.
"The river!? That's out of town! What if there were grimm nearby!?" There weren't. It didn't matter if there were. He had encountered something worse.
"I dunno." He mumbled.
Correction. Now she looked murderous. She clenched her eyes, breathing deeply through her flaring nostrils before fluttering them open to stare impassively.
"You are in a world of trouble, young man."
"...yes ma'am."
Her head twitched slightly. Any second now, she was gonna flay him alive. His sisters stared from the table with concern. Rarely was their mother this furious. She studied him silently for a moment.
"...Is that why you're wet? Did you fall in?" She asked.
"... yes ma'am."
She sighed through the nose, then sniffed and scrunched it.
"You smell terrible." He did smell terrible. He may have gotten rid of most of the blood, but that did little to wash away the unholy stench that permeated from him. It was an unnobservable reminder of his fallen foe.
"...yes ma'am." At least he had the river cover story for an excuse.
Juniper lifted an imperious finger pointed towards the hallway.
"Go," she breathed in, and scrunched her face again, "go take a shower. Then come back down for dinner."
Jaune couldn't do dinner. His stomach still roiled from the memory of his first kill.
"I'm," he began, flinching as his mother's eyes turned even harder, "I'm not really hungry."
"Then go to your room!" She snapped. "But shower first!"
"Yes ma'am." He couldn't have moved faster if he wanted to.
"Wait." The order halted him. Let it not be said that Jaune never obeyed his mother. He turned to find her squinting at him questionable.
"Is your neck bruised?"
Shit. He was hoping that she wouldn't notice that. He had only become aware of it himself when he had seen his reflection in the reflective windows of the abandoned house.
"Oh my gods." she whispered, coming closer to look. Jaune had to do everything in his power not to reflexively take a step back. He prayed the mark didn't look like the hand that had grasped it not an hour before.
"What did you do?" He didn't know what to say. He had been thinking of plausible excuses that wouldn't have her take him to doctors or just straight up scream in horror or outrage at himself or another scapegoat. Nothing had come to mind. Should he just confess? Tell her the truth? No, that would probably just put a belt in his future with how ridiculous it sounded.
Tell her you ran into a low tree branch running back.
"I ran into a low tree branch running back." He echoed mechanically.
That sounded stupid. He sounded stupid. And evidently, his mother thought so too. She covered her face with her hands and screamed.
Looks like the scenario he was hoping to avoid happened anyways. Screw him, right?
She didn't say anything else, she just pointed to the hallway. He fled in response.
The shower was hot, or maybe it was cold. He couldn't tell. Perhaps it was just so unbearably hot that it felt cold? His red skin supported that theory.
He soon found himself in his bedroom, having guided himself there on autopilot. He stared straight ahead as he closed the door to a disturbingly quiet house behind him. His face was zoned out.
Are you there? He asked, hoping that the… the voice would keep on its promise.
I never promised anything, Jaune noticed that it was no longer preceded by haunted whispers and howls, but yes. I am 'here'. I always have been.
The answer only raised more questions. Most important of them being;
Who are you!?
Followed by;
Where are you!?
It didn't answer, and Jaune had the inkling idea that it had decided to leave again. To torture him into insanity again. But then it spoke.
Lie down.
Why?
Because I don't think you would appreciate it if your skull happened to slam on the door as you fell. It said mockingly, as if he were six again.
No, he wouldn't like that at all. It would be icing on the cake.
So lie down.
Jaune lied down, not even bothering to tuck himself under the sheets as he stared up at the ceiling.
Nothing happened.
Jaune was about to question the voice for its demand coupled with an unveiled threat, when his vision spun.
He felt himself sinking, darkness creeping in from the edges of his vision as the ceiling flew higher and higher out of reach. Higher and higher it flew, and faster and faster it spun. All the while, he tried to move, to grasp his head or do anything to stop the spinning. He couldn't, his body refused to listen to any of his commands.
With a popping sensation, he found himself standing in blackness.
Only, it wasn't quite blackness. That was receding actually.
He found himself in… a study, or an office. That was the best way to describe it, Holly's father had a similar one at their house. Except this one had one thing that theirs didn't.
A great roaring fire, away from all the bookshelves that covered the walls. It was a strange looking conflagration, with bright yellow flames from which he felt no heat. They sprang up from a giant black ball that floated above the ground.
So enraptured from the sight was he, that he almost didn't notice the man standing in front of it.
Shadowed he was, the flickering light behind him shrouding his features in darkness. Everything about him seemed off. His posture was wrong. His head's shape looked too… too perfect. He looked entirely perfect, and that was wrong. At least, what he could see was.
The contrast of light and dark made almost everything difficult to tell. Jaune couldn't make out if the man was bald or not. He couldn't even tell if the man had clothes. There were almost no discernible features for him to behold. It was almost like looking at the Night Gaunt.
Almost.
As obscure as the man was, it was impossible to not see the eyes that looked at him. Eyes with glowing yellow irises, sinister in nature. Their stare seemed to eat away at him all the way to his soul.
"Hello Jaune."
A Night Gaunt!? Gavengaaaa! Why a Night Gaaauuunt!?
What? Were you wanting me to throw a shoggoth at him? Oh darling, there's more to the twisted world of HP Lovecraft than tentacles and eyeballs. A shoggoth would just be far too typical for the world.
And what a world it is! Shocked the hell out of me when I learned that Conan the barbarian is from the same franchise. Also has werewolves too if I remember correctly. But I digress.
More plot progression! And sweet sweet squick! Is it too soon? Nyarly hot topic don't care(yes, that spelling was intentional).
And now to address some questions and points from delighted reviewers and messengers.
Creatures!? Where? When? All over the place. What type? Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that… EVERY THING'S FOR SA- Do come back~
To the one who mentioned schoolgirls and tentacles: P-perv! (I did slightly think of that at first tho)
To the man who mentioned Cthulhu, I say thank you. People who notice my references are my favorite people. I would give you a chips ahoy! But we know almost nothing about each other. Give yourself a pat on the back instead!
Got muh new rig coming in. Should be here tomorrow. We shall see how typing on a regular keyboard goes.
Aaaaaaaaand that's a wrap. You folks have a good day.