Life on Remnant: My Tale of RWBY

Chapter 1: Out of the Frying Pan… Pt. 1 - The Recovery

Location: REDACTED, Atlas

Time & Date: 11:36 PM, November 17th, 40XX

Weather: Cloudy w/ Light Snow

'Ugh… everything feels like I've been stomped on a dozen times…' I groan softly and try to open my eyes, managing to crack them open just enough for a bright, white LED light to pierce through and make me cover my eyes to prevent more pain. After the initial attempt, I started to slowly open my eyes behind my hand then slowly start to pull my hand away to let them progressively adjust to the light. Once my eyes stopped effectively burning, and I had rubbed the remainder of the sleep from my eyes, I finally started to take in the area around me.

From first glance, it looked like I was in some sort of medical facility, maybe an infirmary or a triage center. I was clearly hooked up to machines, because I saw an IV drip going into my right arm, and I heard a heartbeat monitor beeping beside me. As I slowly began to push up my aching and still exhausted body, I began to notice more little details about my current room. There were three other beds, all to my left with the same set of technology and equipment, a pair of large cabinets, full of medical supplies sat near what I guess was the exit, along with a clock and a calendar. Apart from that, the entire room was nearly barren, with the only few things remaining being a large sink in one corner, connected to a large row of counters and cabinets.

'Am I in… a hospital?' I start to push myself up and wince, falling back onto the bed and gripping my left hand tightly. "The hell-?"

"Ah, you are awake, merveilleux."

"Huh…?" I look over at the door and push myself up slightly to get a better view, trying to see who talked and where it came from. Once I finally managed to get my weight rested on my elbows, I looked over at the door and felt a small wave of relief wash over me, it was a doctor, an actual medical professional. He had a mix of white and storm-grey hair, two burgandy colored eyes, and an aged face that probably set him in the mid 50's to early 60's. He was wearing a fleece-lined lab coat, a black scrub shirt over a blue sweater, black pants- covered in an assortment of crusty stains that I couldn't place -and a pair of very beaten looking combat boots. How could I tell he was a doctor? The tools in his coat, the bag in his hand was a vintage surgeon's case, and once he walked over, he smelled heavily of antiseptic and saline solution.

"Are you… a doctor…?" I groan. I just realized that my throat was very dry and my tongue felt like a hunk of dense leather. Was I dehydrated, or have I not been given anything fluid apart from my IV bag?

"Oui, my name is Charles Merlot, but please refer to me as Dr. Merlot." He opened his case and pulled out something that made my eyes sparkle, a bottle of water. "How have you been? You've been out for une journée complète, a full day."

A full day? Damn… Cinder did a number on me… "Thirsty… hard to speak…"

"Let me help with that then, tout de suite." He opened the bottle and stuck in a small straw, placing it up to my mouth and letting me drink almost the entire bottle in one sitting. When he pulled it back, he was in awe at how much I drank, "Seigneur… quite the parched one, aren't you?"

"Yeah…" I licked my lips and sighed happily, letting my weight fall back onto the bed. "Thank you Doc…"

Merlot chuckled softly and stood up, "Well, I am happy to have helped. Now you rest up, you'll be going through your first set of tests tomorrow."

"Tests…?"

"To make sure you did not sustain any major injuries during your accident." He closed his case and started to walk out, before pausing and pulling a small-sized, very thick and heavy duty journal. "And here, something to keep you occupied until you are discharged."

'A journal, huh? Does he expect me to be here a while?' I weakly pat down my pockets and sigh in relief. My pen was still there, so I at least had something to write with. "Thanks…"

"De rien. Enjoy your night."

Day 2?

At least I think it's my second day here, can't really tell from how much I've been sleeping. Otherwise, today was dreadfully boring. I had a few tests from the Doc concerning my physical health, blood tests, reflex tests, a few once overs on my bruises, and then another small drink of water and then it's back to sleeping. I guess this'll be routine for a while.

Here's to a potentially better day tomorrow?

Day 4?

Late entry because I think whatever the Doc gave me for the tests knocked me out for another day on top of last night. Also, I've been feeling weird, like… like I'm ill! I've never been sick for years! And now, all of a sudden, I'm getting these weird aches, headaches, and nausea that barely let me keep water down… I'm worried it might get worse, even with Doc's help.

I have learned a few new things though, apparently I'm on a military base up north of… some county. Doc never said where we are exactly, or really explained the lack of personnel, but he tells me that I'm in safe hands and that I should just focus on relaxing. I'll take his word for now, but I'll be sure to keep my guard up a little more than I can in my current condition.

Signing out for the night, getting hard to keep my eyes open at this point...

Day 7
Doc has officially told me that it has been a week since I've arrived here, and that unfortunately, I will need to stay for longer as my tests continue to give mixed results and different outcomes. I also have been physically feeling worse, I think I'm not being fed anything… because I'm feeling so hungry after the tests…

I've been asking the Doc why I haven't been fed, and he tells me that I have been. But I continue to throw up almost everything I've been given, even simple soups and crackers. I asked if he could increase the amount of saline I'm getting to keep my fluids up at the very least, and he said he will after the next set of tests.

I don't know if I feel this bad due to my injuries, or due to what he's doing… but either way, I need to get food soon…

For now, I'm gonna close up, I'm starting to feel sleepy again…

Day 11…

"What do you mean you'll need to cut my fluids?! I'm barely getting by with what you're giving me!"

"Ease yourself lad, this is not my choice. We're running low on solution and thus we need to ration it," Merlot sighs and pulls the needle out of my arm, wiping the area clean and placing a small adhesive bandage over the area on my vein. "From now on, you'll only receive an IV when you are sleeping, comprendre?"

I sigh defeatedly and nod tiredly, "Yes sir…"

"Good, now please rest. You'll be needing to conserve more energy for our upcoming tests. I'll come back in the evening," He grabs his bag and begins to walk out briskly, a look of slight worry on his face as he basically charges through the door and out into the hallway.

"... finally." I hop off the bed and wince slightly, my right leg buckling slightly due to the unknown injury- wait, unknown? I swear I got this when… uh… umm… "Why don't I remember…?"

I shake it off and hobble over to the medical cabinet and grab an abandoned bottle of vitamin tablets, dumping the contents into the waste bin, and then shuffling over to the sterilization sink and rinse the bottle out. I had taken the habit to be out of bed when the Doc wasn't around, keep myself sort of active and hydrated, since I had gotten the suspicion I was being kept weak on purpose. After I sniffed the inside of the bottle to check for any residue that might've been caught, I smiled weakly and filled it to the brim and started to gulp down water like a dehydrated fish. The water was bitter, kinda metallic, and bitingly cold to the point where it hurt to swallow, but it was still fresh water.

After I drank my fill (Which was about four bottles worth, or until my throat started to burn), I threw the bottle into a different waste bin and hobbled back to my bed, wincing every time I put weight on my left ankle. I made a mental note to write a reminder in my journal to check and see what's been causing the pains in my shoulder and ankle as I crawled back onto my bed and grabbed my journal.

"Another day… another hand cramping entry in this little piece of shit…" I sigh and flip open to another page, grabbing my pen and flipping to a new page. "Day 11…"

Day 12

At this point, I'm only writing these passages as a way to vent, rather than for entertainment purposes.

Anywho… the Doc has immediately put me back onto a full solution, and has strictly stated that I am NOT to leave my room for any reason (Although I wasn't allowed to leave anyways) and if I had to, I MUST get permission from him first. Which, I honestly didn't need. I was getting my own water after he left the room, I was hooked up to a catheter (Found that out at around Day 6) and since I was getting no food, I was pretty fine on my own. So, whenever I managed to get out of bed to do my normal water run, I decided to try and smuggle some supplies from Doc's cabinets to get something for the pain in my shoulder, hand and ankle, and maybe some form of antibiotics for any potential infections.

Apart from all of that, I'm doing what little I can to keep myself in good spirits. And recently (Totally started this today, but f**k it.) I've been exercising as best I can, sometimes it's just stretching, sometimes I manage to actually do a push-up or a few sit ups before the pain gets to severe. It's nothing compared to my usual routine or even my morning warm-up, but it's still something.

I'm basically a prisoner here. While I'm being treated as a patient, my mind and spirit feel like the rest of my being is trapped. I just wonder when I'll actually be released so I can go back to my family… the girls must be so worried…

No. Don't think about any of that, just focus on recovery. They're strong… and I know they'll be fine without me.

Just… focus on getting better and getting out.

Day 18

FINALLY! I'm allowed to leave this gods-damned room! I've gotten actual food and a real jacket! (Sure the food was just jerky, dried fruit, and re-heated broth, but it was still food!) And the Doc has me on this weird… medicine that I have to keep in an IV bag taped under my shirt. Sure it's itchy, and makes me ache occasionally, but it's a reason for me to actually explore my confines and see where the hell I am.

Although… I wish I didn't know now…

When the Doc took me outside for a test to see how well I would do in a cold environment, I felt my heart drop into my gut, and my spirit shattered. I wasn't in a hospital, I was in the Public Services building of an abandoned military compound…

I was. Against all of my hopes and judgements. A prisoner to someone, and so was the Doc. I just lost it, I ran away from the Doc, and charged into the nearest building I could find. I think I heard the doors break off of their hinges when they hit the walls, and I honestly didn't care. I ran into the furthest room I found, crawled into a corner and just started to bawl, I cried tears that burned against my frigid skin and wailed louder and harder than a banshee. By the time the Doc had found me, I was still sobbing, but now I was shivering along with frosty tear-streaks running down my cheeks and small patches of frost on the coat where my tears had soaked in.

He told me that he too was a prisoner, but was only given freedom by his captors because of me. He pulled me to my feet and escorted me back to the building, watching me cautiously in case I started to show any signs of frostbite.

By that point, I had fallen asleep from exhaustion and a minor case of hypothermia. Everything else that happened, the Doc never told me. But now I had an objective…

Find whoever the fuck captured us, beat them to shit, and then get the f**k out of here.

Day 20

I am already back off of food, thanks to my little "moment" when the Doc pulled me out. They've completely restricted my food rations until I REQUIRED it, which means I'm only being fed one meal, EVERY WEEK! One meal! The bare minimum amount of food needed for survival!

This was a serious kick in the teeth. Before, the Doc gave me three, hearty meals a day. Now, I get one measly ration every Sunday night.

Thankfully… I managed to get my backpack back from my captors, minus my knife. So now I at least have some books, my tablet and my own personal notebook to actually keep myself entertained apart from just exercise and sleeping. I also managed to find my canteen and filter (So no more metallic and bitter tasting water!) and my own emergency food. This should last me a couple weeks with careful rationing, and with my crisis candy, it should last me even longer if needs be.

Although, I am still oblivious to who my captors are. And my memory has been getting worse… now I don't even remember how I even got here, if I even had that memory from the beginning.

For now, the next step is to finally see to my injuries and predict where to go from here.

Day 21

Three weeks in… and now I feel both amazing and terrible…

I finally got the stones to take off the bandages on my left hand and ankle (Which I discovered after my first attempt to get water for myself) and the one around my right shoulder, to finally see how my injuries were.

And I swear on my life, I nearly vomited when I took off the one around my ankle…

There was a gash through my entire hand, jagged and rough. The bleeding had stopped ages ago, but the wound had not closed at all. The one on my shoulder was only a little slice, was only a centimeter deep at the top of my shoulder, and seemed to be the least worrisome of the three. My ankle however… was the worst…

There was. A chunk of flesh. Missing. A literal half-inch deep gash in the flesh, torn out from my ankle, and filled in with cotton. Now, this isn't unhealable, but it'll be a bitch to stitch. I paled when I saw it, and I felt the bile creeping up my throat as I dropped the bloodied bandage onto the floor. I scrambled over to the nearest waste bin, and started to dry-heave until my stomach settled, which was not pleasant…

When I had finally calmed down, my stomach had settled, and the color had returned to my face, I got to work on properly healing my injuries. First step was to raid the cabinets for a needle, surgical thread, and disinfectant. I opened every wall cabinet, and every single one under the counters until I found a half-empty bottle of rubbing alcohol, a box of sterile string, and a needle case with one non-rusted needle. The next step was to break into Merlot's pantries and get some bandages, gauze and painkillers. I knew they were locked with a basic deadbolt key lock, and that was the easiest thing to pick if you had actual picks and a screwdriver. Unfortunately, I had no picks, and the only flat and sturdy enough edge I had was a scalpel.

So, I had to improvise a pick, or try and break the lock or the plastic screens. I tried the latter by using the steel toes and spikes on my boots to try and crack the screens. After four hours of kicking the bottom part of the left screen with my good foot, I managed to chip and crack the screen enough to reach in and pull out a roll of bandages, a small bottle of morphine pills, and a weathered package of gauze pads. I did remember to go for the one to the right of the door, since the Doc always took the supplies needed from the left one.

So, using what I had learned from advanced First-Aid and my sisters, I put the nose to the grindstone and got to work. First off was to take a couple of tablets to dull my nerves, which… didn't work. I checked the bottle and saw that they had expired almost four years ago, and in my annoyance, I chucked the bottle into the trash, not noticing the actual year on the bottle. So, instead, I grabbed out three gauze pads and wrapped some of the bandage around it and bit down on it. Next was to disinfect and clean my wounds, which was about as fun as using a angle grinder for a nail file. It was so painful to do it on my hand and ankle, I almost passed out from the sheer amount of agony I was feeling. I swear, dipping my hand into molten lead would've felt less painful.

After the blood was washed away, and the alcohol had done it's work, was the fun part of stitching everything shut. I pulled out the thread spool, grabbed a scalpel off of one of the surgical trays to cut it after I was finished. Then… I started stitching everything I could, starting with my shoulder wound, then onto both sides of the gash on my hand, and then finishing with my ankle.

After that… I woke up with the Doc wrapping bandages around my ankle while sighing defeatedly. When I pushed myself up to get a better look, he finally looked up and me with a faint grin on his face. I asked why he was grinning and he simply said that "he should've taken care of my injuries properly" instead of just cleaning and wrapping them. We shared a chuckle and he handed me a few morphine tablets and some tryptophan pills and told me to just rest.

For once, I was happy to comply and downed the pills without a second thought.

Day 25…

"...ugh… so boooooored." I hop out of my bed and start to wander back over to my backpack to check the time on my tablet. "When will the Doc be back so I can get the last of my tests done…?"

I started to type in the password into my tablet when I started to hear a different noise in the hallway, a very odd sound.

Heels clicking against the laminate floor.

I quickly ran back to my bed and rolled onto my side, facing away from the door. When I closed my eyes, the door opened and the sound of heels started getting louder. I gulped silently and kept my mouth shut as I heard them beginning to talk.

"How are his tests going Doctor?" The first voice I heard was muffled, but noticeably feminine. There was a slight teasing tone and a hint of venom behind her words, but otherwise there was nothing distinguishable. "Is he doing as well as expected?"

"H-He is doing… adéquatement, adequately… his blood is as I assumed, and h-his body is f-far more durable than our own…"

'That was Doc! But… what does he mean by "his" blood? Aren't we both humans?'

"And the serum?"

"T-The serum has n-no apparent effect on h-his body… in f-fact it s-seems to b-be terminated by h-his immune system as s-soon as it enters h-his bloodstream…" Merlot gulps softly and clears his throat. "A-Also… h-his strength is r-returning at a f-far faster r-rate than we expected…"

"Hmm… a pity." The woman sighs softly and walks up to my bed, watching my curiously. She placed a bare hand against my bandaged shoulder and I shivered as she moved in slowly down to my hand. "We will have to work with it, regardless of setbacks. Now prep him for tomorrow, I want him on his feet to start scavenging in the morning."

"O-Oui… r-right away…"

The woman nods and looks back down to me, eyeing my curiously, "You can stop trying to fake your sleep boy, I'm not that stupid."

'Welp. Guess I'm busted.' I sigh and sit up, turning myself around to look at one of our supposed captors. I was right in guessing that it was a woman, and damn my hormones, but she looked pretty damn nice. She had her face covered with a deep ash-black hat and scarf, along with a pair of snowboarding goggles, a puffy black jacket that hugged her figure quite nicely with a pair of black gloves with golden decorations, a pair of deep navy-blue jeans and a pair of heeled combat boots. I noticed that she had ash-black hair as well, and looked quite young. She leaned down to look me in the face and started to… inspect me? I think? It was hard to tell with the goggles blocking her eyes.

"Why people are so fascinated by you and your pathetic sisters continues to amaze me," She leans in closer to look me dead in the eyes. "Although they are right about one thing, you do have oddly nice eyes."

"Okaaaay…" I shift back slightly and gulp nervously, clearly uncomfortable. "Uh… why do you wear all of that… inside…?"

"Because I prefer to hide my looks, some people tend to… shy away from a woman like me."

Being my curious self, I asked a question that I would later regret, "What makes you so dangerous?"

She chuckles softly and lifts her goggles and hat off, letting her hair fall down to her shoulders and letting a pair of bright… amber… eyes… oh shit.

"C-C-Cinder?!"

"Well now, you do remember me. That is wonderful." She smirks and leans back down, her eyes boring into my own. "I do hope you are enjoying your time here, because you will be here for a very, very long time."

"M-Ms. Fall-"

"Quiet you maniac, I don't need to hear any more of your ramblings." She turned back to me and pulled something out of her coat, something that made my heart fall into my stomach. It was my phone, in pieces… "I assumed you wouldn't be needing this anymore. So I did you a favor."

"Y-You…"

"Get used to it boy, and listen closely," She grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls me closer. "You. Will not. See your family. EVER AGAIN."

She pushes me back onto the bed and turns to leave, Merlot looking at me sadly as he trudged behind her. Once I recovered from the shock, my fear and anguish quickly flipped to anger and rage. Forget trying to recover my strength and get Merlot and me out. I now had one. Singular. Goal.

Get. The fuck. Out of here. And get back anything that bitch had stolen from me.

A/N: Well... this is out of the blue. I... kinda got back into writing? I mean, don't expect any chapters in specific time frames, I have all sorts of shit to worry about already. I will try to keep putting out chapters at a semi-decent pace, but it'll still be slow.

Apart from that: Please leave any reviews or comments to give me any tips to improve on my writing! Thank you, and enjoy your day.