KS: Hey, everyone, it's your boy once more. I have somehow managed to get out my slump and write something. Now, this will be based off the latest chapter of GodHand96's Ironside (big shoutout, btw, love what you've done). And it will focus on everyone's now presumably least favorite catgirl. (sighs) I tell you, this is the first time I've done something with such dark undertones. Of course, there is SIN-surrection, but when I do more chapters of that, I assure you that it'll get more dark. Anyway, a few warnings in advance before I begin. There will be self-harm and dismemberment. If you are sensitive to either of those things, I recommend you find another fic to peruse. If not, then... prepare yourself.
How long has it been?
How many stares have I gotten?
And also… how much more blood have I spilled?
A young woman stood in an alleyway, holding two blades in both of her hands. Of course, there were three things that were most striking about the woman.
The first was the mask with strange purple markings all of it.
The second was the dark cloak she had on, which covered her entire body.
And the third and most grating feature of the woman…
Was the amount of blood that covered said cloak. The blades were dripping with the scarlet fluid. Behind the woman was a load of bodies that were lifeless, all of them with their limbs severed and heavily scarred.
The two sides will never be able to find peace once again… and it's all my fault.
It had been five years since the battle of Mantle, since hordes of Grimm invaded the lower city. Many casualties were had, from civilians, military personnel, and even huntsmen. Rebuilding took some time, but everything slowly went back to normal.
If only that were true.
Tensions were higher than ever when one of the Happy Huntresses was murdered. There was many rumors and theories on who was responsible and why, but the military immediately put them to rest. Ironically enough, new rumors have begun to circulate, believing that a high-ranking military official was responsible for the horrible deed.
And to top it off, relations between humans and faunus have taken a turn for the worse. While the two sides have been in constant conflict with each other in Atlas, more than any place in Remnant, it only seemed to increase. Human shop owners refused to allow faunus into their businesses, let alone serve them, and faunus would openly assault humans whenever they made a comment towards them.
And at the center, one person was blamed for the whole affair.
The very same person, like she had done many times in the past, had ran away.
"Back again, I see. How is it, being the biggest hypocrite in all of Remnant?"
The woman said nothing as she took off her cloak, revealing a slender, yet toned body… which was covered in many scars. There were several across her abdomen, arms and back. Once she took off her pants, more scars along her legs have been revealed.
"You've been condemning us for pointless slaughter, and here you are, perupetuating the same violence that drove our race to heavy scrutiny. It's funny, now that I think about it."
The woman paid no mind to the figure behind her, completely cloaked in darkness save for a blinding red branding located where its face should be.
"Ignore me all you want. You know it's the truth."
More silence from the masked woman.
The kingdom of Vacuo was not a place for the faint of heart. What that basically means is, for one to live in Vacuo, they had to be able to defend themselves. After all, a kingdom situated in the middle of the desert is bound to come with hardships of all shape and form.
The woman sat at a table, paying no mind to the chatter around her. She had been sitting there for the past hour, waiting patiently.
"I see we are indulging in further hypocrisy," the figure next to her sneered. "Already come to terms with how far you've fallen?"
More silence from the woman, and the figure scoffed.
"Not surprising. You've always been a coward from start to finish. Why change what was embedded deep in your very being?"
The woman said nothing.
Soon enough, a woman with scales and frills on her neck walked up to her and sat down across from her.
"Another job has been posted," she said, placing a paper on the table. It was a wanted poster, depicting a crazed man with facial tattoos."
"He has been wanted for murdering several faunus and humans," the frill lizard faunus said in a cold tone. "Looks like you and him have something in common."
The masked woman remained silent, and the faunus in front of her sighed.
"Make sure he's dead by tonight," she said, rising from the chair and walking away.
The woman looked at the poster, and for the first time, let out a sound.
"It never ends, does it."
"And there it is," the figure next to her says in mock surprise. "She finally speaks. For a second, I believed you were going to be completely mute."
Letting out a sigh, the woman stood up and walked away.
"Better get this over with."
Night falls on the city. The woman runs across the rooftops, keeping her movements silent.
"He should be up ahead. If I can catch him, I can end him."
She heard a scream from far away. She was definitely close.
"Time to kill."
Using all of her strength, she increased her movements towards the spot where she heard the scream.
A hulking beast of a man laughed visciously as he swung around the corpse of a man he just killed.
"No one can beat me!" he roared. "I am invincible!"
"You know, people who say they're invincible are actually just overcompensating," a voice called out. "Looks like you're not much different."
The man stopped swinging when he heard a voice.
"Who said that?" he asked, looking around frantically. "Show yourself!"
"I won't show myself."
Before he could say anything else, the man felt a sharp pain in his back, as if someone slashed him from him.
"Ugh! What the-?"
"People who kill indiscriminately are the absolute worst. They're the lowest of the low. They make the Grimm look good in comparison."
The man turned around to see who stabbed him, but there was nobody behind him. He felt something quickly cut his achilles tendons, forcing him on his knees.
"Gah! Dammit! Who the hell is there?!"
"They can offer any reason they wish, but the bottom line is, once they kill, the blood will forever be on their hands, never to be washed away."
The man grit his teeth. "I know where you are now. If only you'd kept your mouth shut, you would have easily killed me."
He thrusted his hand to the left, and quickly gripped something in his massive hand. It was the masked woman, struggling to break free. The man grinned wickedly, happy that he finally caught his attacker.
"Thought you could get the drop on me, huh? Looks like all that talking had finally screwed you over!"
He squeezed her neck, depriving her of air.
"Any last words, bitch?"
The woman choked out a few.
"You… lose."
The man was confused for a brief moment… then his head slowly fell from his body, landing on the ground. Behind him was the masked woman, staring at the headless corpse.
"And the absolute worst thing about killers is this: they will always be hunted by others, determined to make them pay for what they've done."
"Couldn't have said it better myself," a voice said.
The woman turned around to see another woman glaring at her, her teeth bared in anger.
"So you finally found me, Harriet."
"It didn't take that to find you," she seethed. "Of course, you're no stranger to slaughter, aren't you… Blake?"
The woman sighed and took off her mask. Sure enough, the tired, haggard face of Blake Belladonna was revealed. Her yellow eyes had grown dull with bags under under them, and her complexion was deathly pale. Her hair had grown out, but she had made no efforts to maintaining it.
"I see your appearance properly represents how you are on the inside," Harriet sneered.
"If you've come to take me in, you're welcome to try," Blake said.
Harriet let out a roar of laughter that was void of any humor. "Take you in? Oh Belladonna, I knew you were stupid, but this is a new level." She contined glaring at her. "I'm not here to take you in. I'm here to take your life."
Blake narrowed her eyes. "For what it's worth, I'm surprised you were able to recover."
Harriet grit her teeth and parted her jacket, showing the stab wound in her chest.
"You gave me this when you escaped persecution after you stupidly revealed the Winter Maiden's location," she growled. "Of course, the previous Maiden had already passed on her powers, but it doesn't change the fact that so many faunus died just because of you."
Blake said nothing as Harriet continued to rant.
"Funny, the one who wanted peace between faunus and humans ended up making that an impossibility. I heard your former team no longer acknowledges your existence any more. Although…"
"What?" Blake asked.
"I always wondered about that stupid blonde that was on your team as well," Harriet said in a fake wondering tone. "You two were of the same kind, always fucking things up for everything and everyone."
"Is there a point you're trying to make?" Blake said irritably.
"Yeah," Harriet hissed. "I'm going to make sure you go back to your team in pieces. Although, you seemed to have made it easier for me in a way." She glanced at the top of Blake's head, knowing what was missing. "If you catch my drift."
Blake did indeed catch her drift. She caught it quite well.
Blake breathed heavily as she applied another scar to her body, then downed another handful of painkillers. All while the figure watched.
"Is this a thing for you?" they asked rhetorically. "Do you just add another scar for every person you killed?"
"As if you didn't do the same," Blake bit out, slowly standing up.
"I'm fine with emotional scars," the figure replied casually. "Unlike you, I'm not a masochist."
Blake ignored the figure and walked towards the bathroom. She looked at herself at the mirror, her body covered with scars she herself had inflicted over the years. The figure appeared behind her.
"How many scars do you have?" they asked.
"I haven't kept count," Blake admitted. "Don't plan to."
The figure scoffed. "I guess your soul has really darkened."
Blake said nothing as she stared at her ears. The ears on the top of her head. Steeling herself, she took her bloodied knife and slowly raised it above. The figure, as if realizing her intentions, shook its head.
"You truly are beyond redemption."
"Like you're one to talk," Blake hissed, the knife slowly reaching towards one of the ears.
She made one clean slice, then screamed in absolute agony. She let out all kind of undiginified noises as the pain rushed through her, gripping the bathroom sink. Once it subsided, she raised her knife again, preparing to do the same with the remaining ear.
"I guess you were so ashamed with what you did, you decided to discard your heritage," Harriet mocked.
"Enough," Blake said, raising her swords. "Did you come here to kill me or to mock my choices?"
"Obviously both," Harriet snorted. "But since I'm done with latter… let us proceed with the former."
She got in a battle stance as lightning charged around her. Blake also got in a stance, ready to defend herself. If she lost, then Harriet would kill her then and there. But if she won…
Well, that's just another scar for her.
KS: There. It's done. (sighs) Damn, I had this on my mind, but I always had trouble completing it. Not because of the dark tones, but my usual lack of motivation and laziness. Anyway, that's this one. I might be thinking of doing something similiar but with more light overtones with another one featuring a certain golden dragon that has allowed her inner fire to die out. If you have any comments, criticisms or something in between, you know where to put them. Also, be sure to fave and follow, and I'll see you when I see you. Peace.
