Preface

This is my first time doing a fanfic, so please don't harsh on me. I don't RWBY or Playerunknown's Battleground(PUBG). They belong to Rooster Teeth and Tencent Games respectively. Also, I will be incorporating various weapons and abilities from both RWBY and PUBG. Don't like it? Don't care. I will, however, accept any and all ideas in reviews. I will not tolerate toxic criticism, though. You can toss that out of your window. Oh, and this fic will be rated M for excessive language, graphic violence, sexual themes and possibly lemons. Fair warning.

Prologue

Flying 2,000 meters in the air, in a large carrier plane, 100 people are waiting for their chance to jump out and fight to the last team. The last man. As they have for the past 10 years. And some believe that they always will. Day in and day out. Kill or die. That has always been the rules of the battlegrounds. Few know the real truth, and those that do are called the "Veterans of the Battlegrounds". Four of whom were on that very same plane. Four who knew the ultimate secret of the battlegrounds.

Kill Playerunknown and you will go home.

Kill Playerunknown and you will be set free.

Kill Playerunknown.

Kill Brendan Greene.

=================================Chapter One=====================================

The carrier plane with 100 men and women was shaking slightly for the first time in what felt like years. The passengers used to some form of turbulence whether it be from storms or bullets or even the occasional rocket from the surface. They knew that most of them would die. It was an endless cycle for them, after all. Some even lived for it. Some went so far as to drop right into populated areas just to get a few kills in before being swarmed with bullets and becoming nothing more than a small box to serve as a coffin for others to loot. While others just survive by the skin of their teeth going far out into the reaches of the battlegrounds in order to live until the end and hopefully kill their opponents with both time and patience before fighting the last of the enemies to kill and to achieve victory.

But there are four people who are not scared of the shaking. There are four people who are not even bothered by the looks the battle junkies are giving them. These four are known as the "Veterans of the Battlegrounds" and sometimes even, though rarely, they are called the "Four Riders" because they each drive a vehicle that are similar in color to the Horsemen of legends. They also found out something just recently that could very well mean the end of their slavery as gladiators of the battlegrounds.

Their looks varied, but you could tell that they had an air of camaraderie. Ace, the Winter Scourge, wore an outfit that made him resemble a snow ninja. He was not a ninja, however. He was an elite veteran. Recardo, the Ghost of the Jungle, was an expert strategist and wore an outfit that looked almost like a dark ghillie suit. Perfect for silently killing his enemies in deep wooded lands. Denver, the Storm of the Sands, wore an outfit that resembled a desert bandit, but he was far from a bandit. He exterminated bandits like pests. Victor, the Hell Warrior, wore a more urban combat outfit. A black trench coat with finely detailed combat pants and boots while wearing a decorated beret on his head. His appearance was deceiving, however, since he was the greatest combat medic the battlegrounds had ever seen.

What set each of them apart, however, was not their outfits but their masks. Each one wore a mask earned from battle or, in one particular case, was given in malicious torment. Ace, for his accomplishments in the frozen tundra of Vikendi, was given the Mask of Winter which granted him the ability to hide in snow or summon small blizzards for a time. Recardo, for his strategic victories in the dense woods of Sanghok, was awarded the Mask of the Jungle which granted him the ability to camouflage heavily in any dense wooded areas or summon ravenous beasts to his aid. Denver, for his achievements in Miramar, was gifted the Mask of Sand which granted him the ability to conceal himself in any sandy environments. As for Victor? He was not awarded the Hell Mask.

He was cursed with it.

Before he met his friends, he and his previous team was tasked with investigating a ruins northeast of Pochinki in the country of Erangel. What they found was death. Ritual sacrifices and crude symbols and runes all over the entire ruins. And at the top of the tallest hill in the ruins, screams of agony and the stench of rotting flesh. When they got to the top of the hill, they were ambushed from all sides and captured. When they saw those who were being sacrificed, they were horrified. They saw the men and women being crucified and disemboweled. The unholy priests told Victor and his team were getting "special treatment". They began chanting and Victor screamed in agony as he felt as his very bones were on fire and his flesh was melting. Unfortunately when he saw what was happening to his team, they were getting the reality of what he was feeling. Their flesh was literally melting off of their bones until they were nothing more than bloody skeletons. He looked up at the priests when they stopped chanting. They exulted their master for allowing them to summon the Avatar of Pain. A beastly creature eight feet in height and reeking of rotten flesh. When he looked at the remains of his friends he was horrified to see in their place creatures that were only in local legends called Skinners. He looked up at the unholy priests to see them binding him before bringing out their most sacred artifact. The Hell Mask. Those who kill while they are bonded to this mask are gifted with strength, but in return for that strength they are cursed with a dark madness that slowly creeps into their mind until they're nothing more than a berserking animal. A raging beast bent on death and destruction. They only way to break the curse is to kill the priests. But the priests themselves are unknown. They made sure of that. And with that final saying, the priests started chanting again. Only, nothing hurt this time. Instead the mask started glowing an then flew onto Victor's face before strapping itself around his head. He looked up at the unholy priests, but they had already disappeared. Filled with so much rage and hatred at them and the injustices of the world, he roared at the night sky. From then on, Victor made it his personal mission to hunt down and destroy any zombie or undead abomination walking the world. And when he found the identity of those so-called "priests", he would make them pay their debt of blood.

"Hey, Victor. You alright there, man? You're zoning out." said Recardo.

Victor blinked then looked around at his friends. "Yeah. Just remembering the past. Anyway, you're going to love the news I have."

"No shit, Vic? He's really on board the plane? You're not bullshitting us, right?" asked Ace.

"Not about this, Ace. I wouldn't joke about serious shit and you know it. I have it from a VERY good source that he is, in fact, our pilot." said Victor.

"Fuck me. This changes everything. What do you think, Recardo? Denver?"

Recardo looked out into space in deep thought. "This is our one chance. We won't get another one like this. Ever."

Denver looked in between all three of them. "I'm down with whatever you guys want to do. I just want to go home to my family."

Recardo nodded and made sure nobody was eavesdropping before saying softly. "Alright. Here's what we do. Ace and I will go to the front of the plane while Victor-"

Suddenly the plane starts shaking more violently than ever before. Enough to the point where rookies fell over and almost got trampled in the chaos. The interior started blaring an a loud claxon while the overhead intercom called out with a familiar voice only to the four Veterans. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are having turbulence issues due to a sudden storm. Please stay seated and remain calm. This will only be a momentary setback in our flight plan. Thank you and have a pleasant day."

Victor looked up at the intercom as it was turned off. "What the hell are you doing, you SON OF A BITCH!"

The plane suddenly shook so violently that it threatened to tear the plane in half before something unbelievable happened that nobody thought possible.

Lightning struck the plane.

The entire plane was engulfed in a flash of light so blinding that those closest to it were fried instantly from the heat of the bolt. The plane, already strained from the storm, was split in two with both halves plummeting towards the ground in separate directions. Even the four Veterans were not spared from the halving of the plane. They were forcibly flown in all directions, their parachutes automatically equipped as a safety precaution. Recardo was flown North. Denver was flown East. Ace was flown South.

And Victor?

Once he saw where he was heading, he turned back to where the plane was in pieces and flipped them the biggest double birds at their direction while shouting at the top of his lungs. "FUCK YOU, UNKNOWN!" He then turned back around to see a small island in the distant horizon. He opened his parachute early to glide down into a calm glade with orange leaved maple trees just shedding their first leaves of autumn. He glided smoothly and rolled to soften the landing. He looked around to check for any signs of life.

And what he saw, he did not like.

He saw various wolves in the distance that barely looked like any wolf he had ever seen. For one thing, wolves didn't have bones sticking out all over their backs and sides. For another, they sure as shit didn't have fucking bone masks! As he currently didn't have a weapon of any kind, he slowly backed away from them taking very careful steps. But they stopped and sniffed the air. Sensing their alertness, Victor quickly hid be hind a tree and didn't even move an inch. The beowolves looked around and then snarled in the direction of an unnamed prey, they howled and stormed off into the forest allowing Victor to let go of the breath he had been holding without even realizing. He walked off in the opposite direction in hope of finding civilization or at least a road.

He walked for about 400 meters before spying a lone shack with a half-buried crate. He opens the small box to find a sports backpack and a 1911 pistol with a silencer and extended mag near it. He grins in anticipation and stores the pistol in a hidden holster on his leg and puts the rest of the ammunition on his new backpack. He walks to a crossroads and looks at the aged sign reading "Vale" to the East and "Santo Rombo" to the North. He chose to go with his gut and took the East road to Vale.

"I hope no munchkin tells me to follow a Yellow Brick Road or I'm going to make someone shit a yellow brick before giving them a Wicked Bitch Slap of the West." Victor mutters to himself while walking down the lightly paved dirt road.

About 2,000 meters inland and one restless night later(Fucking beowolves again. Do humanity a favor, fleabags. Fuck off or die off. Pick one. Thank Oblivion that he found an SKS in a crate with a 4x scope to see the bastards from 150 meters off.), he was looking at the city skyline of Vale at duck. He whistled at the sight of the clocktower. "That's an impressive piece of work. Must be a bigger pain than an elephant's ass to maintain it, though." He decided to see if there were any weapon shops open and walked into the city.

By the time Victor walked into the city, there was only one weapon shop open. Apparently, what he called weapons other people called "Dust" whatever the fuck that was. He just needed an ammo refill before something or someone tries to chew his ass up. He walked into the store and spotted a girl in a black dress with a red hood on listening to some music on her headphones. Victor smirked then started asking for any .45 ACP or 7.62 rounds the clerk had.

The only problem was money.

"Look, fella. I can't accept your kind of money. You sure you don't have any lien in your, err, wallet?" said the old Dust clerk.

"Look, old man. I understand that you won't accept Unknown Cash as a currency because to you it could have been shat out of a printing press somewhere. But what about the silver coins or augmented gold? They're actually fucking silver and gold! You won't take that?!"

"I'm not a bank, youngster! Now come up with some real money or get out of my store!" growled the old clerk.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. Mind if I cut into this little chat?" asked a smug voice that instantly got on Victor's nerves. "Nice mask. Do they make them in my size?"

Victor looked back to see a man in a white dress coat and shirt with a black bowler hat with orange hair over one side of his face with fake eyelashes on one eye that reminded him of a British rapist that he loathed entirely backed by some thugs in black tuxedos with red ties. "Not for sale. Do yourself a favor, pretty boy. Take you and your hobo douchebags, kiss the pavement and fuck off. You aren't worth my time, you Clockwork Orange piece of shit." Victor said with as much venom that was in his heart.

Bowler hat's left eye twitched along with some eyelash. "As much as I would love to teach you some manners, I'm pressed for time and you're not the one I have business with."

"What do you want? You already cleaned out my store last week?" said the old clerk.

"I'm afraid that's not enough, old boy" Bowler hat looks back at the thugs. "Take it all"

"Wait! Stop!" shouted the old man.

But before anyone realized it, one thug was flown back across the aisles to land against a fully stocked shelf. And while Bowler hat was distracted by his henchman getting tossed like a ragdoll, Victor took this opportunity to donkey kick him in the stomach then draw his pistol while turning in one smooth motion in order to pop off rounds like no tomorrow at the unfortunate peons. Miraculously, none of them died. Probably because their fucking forcefields protected them from the worst of the damage. They still got bullet holes in them, though. Guess their forcefields only protect vital areas. Good to know.

Victor saw that Bowler hat was trying to get away so he chased him until he was forced back because someone tried to throw fireballs at him until they got away. He fired off a couple of potshots at the aircraft with the SKS while they were escaping and manages to shoot Bowler hat in the leg. Victor smirked and imagined Bowler hat in severe pain. A noise of disapproval is heard behind him and Victor turns around to see a beautiful yet pissed off blonde woman looking at him with cold calculation while the girl in the red hood who took out some of the thugs looking really distressed.

"Please come with me and answer some questions." said the blonde woman.

"Not happening until you tell me your name and why I need to come with you." said Victor.

"If you must know, my name is Glinda Goodwitch. As for why you need to come with me, you need to answer questions about the attempted robbery and all of the destruction that it's caused. said Glinda with an even even more annoyed frown.

Victor shrugged and thought it couldn't hurt. Might give him some answers as to where his friends were, but that was beside the point. "Alright, Glinda. Lead the way."

She looked annoyed about something but Victor waved it off. After all, he could ditch her at any time he wanted to.

Some time had passed and now Victor was looking at a man that set off a lot of warning bells inside of his head. All Victor wanted to do was reunite with his team and find Unknown, but that was proving to be a giant pain in the ass at the moment.

"Thank you for listening to my request to talk, Victor. I'm Professor Ozpin. Headmaster of Beacon Academy." said Ozpin.

"It's not you both gave me either choice, Ozpin." said Victor.

"I would like to request your services. You will be compensated, of course." said Ozpin.

"Why the hell would you hire me? We only just met" said Victor. Looking annoyed as all hell.

Ozpin leaned forward and looked at Victor seriously. "Because I believe you can really teach everyone something before anything terrible happens at all."

Victor snorted and said the only thing that came to mind.

"Keep dreaming."

=====================================Afterword===============================

And done! This was fun to write, but this is only just the beginning!

I have plans for this series and nobody will stop me!

However, I appreciate feedback and ideas, but like I said in the prefaceb no toxic criticism will be allowed!

Hope you all survive this covid crap and have a pleasant day!