Of Two Different Minds Chapter 5: Omake 1 - Queen of the Castle, a rwby fanfic

This one's a bit weird. This omake has Nora chosen as Salem's host, but...well, I'll let the chapter speak for itself. I figured we could use something with a little more horror comedy since the past couple of chapters have been pretty heavy and some reviews kept pointing out that Salem would've driven them insane if they were in Ruby's place.

Some people have also expressed worries about Ruby being too OP. Similar to An Arc for Every Season, that's part of the point. Ruby has the potential to be one of the most dangerous being on Remnant and everyone reacts to it differently. Does Ironwood try to contain her or trust that she can do right even with Salem in her head? Will Cinder remain loyal or try for a power play with Salem trapped?

That and Ruby doesn't get help from Salem meaning she's not exactly going to be able to use these special abilities whenever she wants. We also don't know yet if there's a price for the merge. The fact that Grimm ignore Ruby indicates that something might be wrong with her.

Salem had endured much over her countless millenias of existence. Years upon years of isolation, the betrayal of her husband, the death of her children, and the agony of being reborn in the God of Darkness' Grimm pool. And then she fought a shadow war with her former husband, being betrayed once more by the man who should've known better than anyone how unworthy of loyalty the Brothers were.

When Ozma had appeared at her doorstep a part of her had hoped that he would succeed. The only reason he even opposed her was because he thought this world was still worth saving. Salem herself cared little for how the races of this world lived their lives, but if she had to sacrifice them to grant herself peace then it was a choice she was willing to make. She'd suffered too much for too long to be held back by empathy now.

The pain that came after Ozma's latest attempt to stop her was agonizing. Salem was no stranger to pain - in many ways it was the oldest friend she had - but this was something different. She felt her very soul being torn asunder, and as she was pushed to the brink of madness she wondered if she would be given the peace of oblivion once it all finally passed.

No such luck.

When Salem's eyes opened she was met with an alien sight. Pink. So much brothers damned pink. Enough pink to sear her eyes and make her physically ill; something she hadn't felt in thousands of years. It was everywhere: the sky, the trees, the grass...the only reprieve from the onslaught was the far too bright sunlight and the buildings that had green in addition to the gods damned color.

"Where...?" Salem looked around and rubbed her eyes. She felt...weak, as if she was weighed down or struggling through water. A second glance allowed her a clearer view of her surroundings. She was standing on an open field while a town stood nearby. The design of the buildings were Mistralian in nature, at least from what she remembered seeing through her Seers.

Had Ozma's attempt somehow transported her here? If so he was a fool. While she prefered to work in the shadows, she did not cower from attention. Any that tried to attack her would meet a swift end at the hands of her magic.

Salem stood up straighter and focused her senses to find the closest Grimm only to find...nothing. Not a single one. She grit her teeth and expanded her search zone, but again she was met with the absense of her pawns. This was impossible. Everywhere contained at least a bit of Grimm. Some places were 'safe', certainly, but only in the sense that patrols had thinned the horde long enough to make them a rare sight. This was something else entirely.

She shook her head. Well, if there were no Grimm to be found then she would simply lure them close. The village would make the perfect bait. If she killed all the inhabitants then the despair and death that radiated would attract Grimm. From there she could return to the Grimmlands and resume her plans to gather the four relics. Ozma was such a fool to think this would stop her.

Salem walked to the village with the regal poise of a queen. No doubt the foolish mortals within would soon panic at the sight of her, which would only quicken her plans. It wouldn't save them, of course. She'd prefer if her presence was kept secret and thus she couldn't afford to leave witnesses.

It was obvious something was wrong when there were no screams or panic that greeted her. Instead the the people, all Mistralians, greeted her happily, "Morning, stranger! Want some pancakes? They're all free!" A beaming old man handed her a plate of the sweets and she was too stunned by his lack of surprise and fear to refuse, "Remember, all syrup is also free!"

And then he skipped off like everything was right with the world. Salem looked down at the towering stack of pancakes then at the village surrounding her. No one was panicking her appearance; most of them didn't even pay her any mind. They were all too busy eating pancakes, skipping around happily, and petting sloths, of all things. Sloths. Creatures more disgusting than even the vilest Grimm.

A closer look at the architecture found even more oddities. The buildings were made of a material she couldn't place. They were soft and springy and yet somehow continued to stand upright. At the center of the village was a fountain that sprayed not water but maple syrup, and atop said mountain was a picture of a young man with Mistralian features in a very flattering outfit that left his chest bare as he raised a dagger to the sky.

It only made her decision to kill them all that much easier.

Salem tapped into the power of her magic and felt...nothing. She tried once more with a tinge of desperation and again found herself lacking. The comforting presence of her magic, the one companion she'd had in her years of isolation, was gone. A chill ran down her spine and tried one last time in the deepest recesses of her soul to find even a spark of her power.

Empty.

Salem felt as if she'd been stabbed. This...This must have been Ozma's doing. Whatever he'd done had left her powerless and weakened. Well, he was a fool to think this would stop her! She didn't care if she had to kill every single one of these people with her own two hands. She would fight and claw her way back to the Grimmlands no matter how long it took!

"Do you wanna play?" a child asked, looking up at her with wide, innocent eyes. For a moment she was reminded of her youngest daughter, Vestra.

Salem reached out, grabbed the child's head, and twisted her neck.

It should've killed her - it should've killed anyone besides herself - but the child simply twisted her neck back and looked at her with an angry out, "Hey, that was mean!" she crossed her arms, "Say you're sorry!"

Salem screamed and kicked her to the ground, attempting to gouge out her eyes with sharp, blackened nails. Again the child showed absolutely no distress and simply stood back up once the deed was done, "You're really mean!" She blinked and her eyes had returned to normal, "No one likes meanies in this place! They're not welcome!"

She didn't know whether to scream or laugh at the immature declaration when something suddenly appeared above her head. A warhammer the size of a building coated with hears that ran along its entire length. She didn't get a chance to do more than take one step back before the hammer swung and sent her flying outside the village with disgusting ease.

"BOOP!"

Salem screamed once more as she found herself flying with an impossible amount of force. She tried to steady herself or find something to grab onto, but she only flail helplessly as the village was quickly replaced by trees and other wildlife. Yet more sloths, but apart from that there were dogs, cats, and one particulaly rotund owl that watched impassively as she finally landed in a river.

It wasn't a river of water. Salem struggled to the surface and screamed when the broke the surface of the disgustingly thick red syrup that clung to her like Grimm tendrils, "AARRRRGGGGGHHHH!" she yelled in utter frustration as she swam desperately to the bank. This place was torture. Had Ozma sent her here deliberately? If so that was a cruelty that she thought even he would not sink to.

It took minutes before she eventually managed to return to solid ground. Her entire body was drenched head to toe in the thick syrup and she felt as if she was going into diabetic shock despite knowing that was impossible. Salem grit her teeth and refused to let out a single sniffle. She was a queen, brothers damn it all! She would not be beaten by this madness!

She looked down at her pale hands and rubbed them against the pink grass. She had to find a way to leave this place. Just...Just think about ensuring Ozma's eternal suffering. That would keep her sane.

Salem coughed and stood, trying to ignore the lingering taste of sugar on her tongue. She debated on her next course of action when a new voice piped up.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

The Queen of all Grimm turned and then looked down when the voice coughed. Right in front of her was a thing that could only be described as a grotesque doll. It was barely taller than a foot with comically wide eyes glaring up at her with fierce disapproval. Besides that it had orange hair and a white and pink outfit, complete with a skirt, that made it clear it was at least meant to be female in nature.

It reminded of her those 'chibi' creatures Watts had told her about once.

"Excuse me?" Salem growled, pride refusing to let her bow down even once.

"Are you gonna stop being mean now or do I have to teach you another lesson?"

Salem sneered and kicked the creature into the flowing river of syrup. If she thought she would be beaten so easily then it was more a fool than she thought, "I am QUEEN, you naive thing! I shall never yield!"

She would soon realize that was the wrong thing to say.

"Uh-uh, I'm the queen!" Salem turned and found the creature standing behind her once more completely unharmed, "And if you're gonna be mean then I just have to make sure you get that!"

And then she disappeared. For a moment Salem thought the creature had retreated with its tail between its legs, and rightly so.

...Until she heard it.