Chapter 1: Cracks in the Wall.


Five more rounds.


William ducked behind the fort's railing and cursed at himself.

How could he let himself run so low on ammo? When the shifts were set up, everyone agreed to keep at least one spare clip on them at all times. Being caught with an empty rifle, in the middle of the night was the last thing anyone needed.

Yet here he was, about to run dry at literally the worst possible time.

Amanda was so going to have his ass for this.

As he pitied his own blunder, William was oblivious as a shadow sneaked over the railing. A large white mask, in the shape of a wolf's skull, pulled itself over the battlement and stared down at the man. Two red eyes borrowed into the back of the man's skull. Its jaw snapped open, steam billowing out of his maw as it reached down, ready to snap shut in a flash.

William felt something moist drip onto the back of his neck...

"Shit!" he cursed, rolling forward. The Grimm's teeth snapped shut less than a second later, right where his head had been.

No hesitation, William propped up his rifle and squeezed the trigger. The rifle erupted in a red flash and the Beowolf's head exploded into black, sickly chunks.

The shadowy creature, now lacking its dome, slumped backwards and slid off the wall with a sickening thud. William didn't even bother to look up to see where it landed. The black mist trailing off its corpse was all he needed to know the monster was dead.

It's not like there weren't plenty more where it came from.

His heart pounding inside his chest, William glanced down at his rifle again and sighed.


Four more rounds.


Things had gone wrong so fast that it was tough to believe the night was still young. Just a few hours ago, Braunes Holz was enjoying a nice peaceful night after a long day of work. It was merely a logging town, off in the wilderness, with its main export being wood and other resources to be shipped back to Vale every month. It was a tough way of life but it was theirs. The threat of Grimm attacks was always constant but since the settlement's establishment, everyone felt like they were prepared.

Large logs lined the walls that surrounded the village. A team of villagers who knew their way around guns and dust were on constant watch for threats. They even had direct contact with Vale in case anything big was headed their way.


It should have been enough.


A Creep bounced over the railings and onto the battlement, about a yard from William. He fired two shots at the creature. One blew off the Grimm's kneecap, effectively immobilizing it.

The second round nailed it square in the neck. It wobbled for a moment or two before falling to the ground, dead.


It wasn't enough.


"Burton! We need some more ammo down here!"

Up on the highest point of the fort, a watch tower sitting right atop the main gate, another defender sighed.

He pulled his eye from his rifle's scope and shot William a look, "Then get one of the runners to do it! I'm busy up here! That's what you get for being lazy and not stocking up!"

William bit his tongue and tried to resist flipping their sharpshooter the bird. Of course it wasn't his job. His job was to keep an eye on the treeline, inform everyone of anything that looked dangerous, and shoot down any flyers that a bolt action rifle could take care of. If anyone shouldn't be ditching their post for an ammo run, it was Burton.

But they were getting desperate here!

"They're not responding to the damn radio! And we got our own hands full here!" William countered, "And it's not like any of the Grimm can jump all the way up there to bug you, we don't all have a comfy seat and a six pack waiting for us every day!"

Burton didn't even dignify that one with a response. The man merely rolled his eyes and went back to his scope.

"I wish I had a comfy chair…" he grumbled, "All I get is cramped knees sitting here…"

The air cracked from the sound of his rifle going off. A compressed Dust round left the long barrel and sailed across the village's open field. Far from the entrance to the town, near the distant treeline, a small Ursa Minor crawled out of the bushes. The Grimm lifted its head, growled in the direction of the town and began to march toward it.

It got three steps before its mask exploded, a round sinking into the middle of its forehead.

Burton sighed and loaded another round into the chamber. Sure, things looked dire for the ones on the wall but that was because they had the worst of it. Burton was sure the tide of Grimm would peter out eventually. Then it would be his job to clean up the stragglers before they got to rebuilding. Wouldn't be the first time things got out of hand, it was just more rare-

Wait, what was that?

Halting his rambling, Burton closed one eye and readied his scope again. There were dozens upon dozens of Grimm pouring out of the treeline, like a tide of black, white, and red. This was nothing new. But as the sharpshooter focused on the bushes, he spotted something. Far out in the distance, a shape stumbling out of the forest.

The way it moved, almost seemed sluggish? That was confusing. Grimm weren't sluggish. Not unless you just smacked it upside the head with enough force to crack its skull.

What Burton saw however, was certainly sluggish. Fumbling through the bushes, one foot in front of the other with hands brushing past the foliage in its way-

Both Burton's eyes shot open. He shot to his feet, turned to his fellow defenders and pointed out into the field.

"GUYS! THERE'S SOMETHING OUT THER-!"

He never got to finish.

Just as William was about to club a Beowolf over the head with the butt of his rifle, a enormous force nearly lurched him off his feet. Many of his fellow defenders felt much the same. At least twenty men and women manned the walls, prepared to keep the Grimm at bay for as long as possible. Whilst fighting the Grimm however, a sudden eruption of wind, dirt, and, splinters, shook the battlements like it was a earthquake.

For the briefest of moments the fighting stopped. William's head was spinning and his feet felt like jello. It took him a moment to pick himself off the ground.

He fumbled for his rifle and with a ringing in his ear, the man around. The last thing he heard before getting tossed around was Burton saying something...

William's jaw dropped.

The Watchtower, was gone. Its roof had evaporated like it hadn't existed. All that remained was a cloud of wood chippings floating in the air. From the floorboards upward, the entirety of the watchtower was gone, reduced to splinters.

All except Burton…

"What the hell…"

Or, what was left of him.

Everyone gasped at the sight. Burton was still there, standing up from his chair with one arm still holding his rifle. The other was pointing out into the field, toward the treeline the Grimm were emerging from. Given his last words, everyone had assumed he had seen something approach the village. Maybe an extra large Grimm, or another horde, or maybe some reinforcements maybe? But what horrified everyone wasn't what Burton had said or seen...

It was what he was lacking.

The man's head was gone. A clean cut and everything above his shoulders was gone. There wasn't even a fountain of blood or a collapsed body. The poor man was frozen in time, headless and still as a statue.

Several of the defenders were gobsmacked. Some lost their lunch, others looked away in terror. It was macabre depiction of the man's last moment. One second Burton was blowing Grimm away at a safe distance, and the next he was little more than half the man he was.

What William saw however, sent a chill up his spine.

Being the closest to the Watchtower, he saw something rising up from behind his friend's frozen corpse.

To most it resembled a Grimm. Something tall, lanky, right out of a nightmare. It was hunched over, with a large mass of fur covering its upper body. The creature loomed behind Burton's body like a growing shadow, a haunting specter for the recently deceased. At a distance many might have confused it with a Beowolf or maybe even a tiny Ursa Minor.

This one however, had more. It had naked hands, clawed fingertips, bare feet, and it wore clothes. Sure, they were rotted rags but it was something at least!

And in one of its five fingered hands, it had something. Clenched between its fingers.

Burton's head.

His expression? Utter terror..

Slowly this thing, this creature, turned toward William. It titled his head, popping a joint or two. Two vacant eyes met his own.

William glanced at his gun.


Two more rounds.


The Demon grinned.


It Wasn't Enough.


Three Days Later.


"Aw, come on!"

"And there goes the CCT connection. I warned you that would happen."

Yang threw her head back with a groan. She glared at the now paused screen on her scroll. If there was any time she wanted to punch a word or two, it would be now. The 'Connection lost' notification was mocking her, she knew it.

"Yeah…" she mumbled, "But I was hoping it would happen after I beat Ruby, now she's gonna hold this over my head for a month!"

Yang snapped her scroll shut, crossed her arms and glared at the Bullhead's ceiling. Now she didn't even have her scroll to entertain her during the long flight. Should have brought a magazine or something.

Blake glanced up from her book and gave her a small smile, "Just ask her for a rematch when we get back."

"But that's just admitting that I lost! I'm telling you, she keeps a white board to mark the wins and loses and she won't let me live this down!"

Yang could practically hear her partner roll her eyes, "Maybe that's what you get for being so competitive with her?"

"Hey! I'm not that…" she nearly yelled, but after a moment Yang flopped back into her seat with a chuckle, "Okay, maybe a little bit. But that's part of my charm, I'm not denying the world that."

If they weren't halfway across the kingdom by now, Blake was sure she could hear the sounds of her remaining teammates groan. It was the only natural response to the living cheese that was Yang Xiao Long. Naturally, she couldn't avoid it due to being locked in a flying metal box, traveling to a village in the middle of nowhere for the next couple days. But, it beats being bored.

Blake just wished she brought a more entertaining book to pass the time.

"So how much longer till we get there?" Yang mused, leaning back, "It feels like we've been in the air for hours."

Hours were stretching it but to the attention span of your average teenager, it might as well have been a year already. Such is the downside of answering the distress call of a poor, ensnared village out in the woods. But them's the breaks, and being bored out of your mind sometimes was one of the caveats of becoming a Huntress. Still, compared to some of the other downsides, this felt like one of the minor ones in comparison to-

"Fantastic news!" a loud, boisterous voice yelled from the cockpit, "We're finally on approach! We'll be making landfall in about twenty minutes, be ready my dears!"

-Professor Port.

Blake sunk deeper into her book while Yang buried her face in her hands, "Ugggh, how did we get stuck with him? Of all the teachers, it had to be Port…"

"...would you rather it have been Professor Goodwitch?"

That sent a shiver up Yang's spine, nearly making her mane of hair stand on end, "Nope! Definitely not! I'd take Port over here any day of the week!"

Professor Port might be a bit of a blowhard that could talk your ear off with his exploits for hours on end but he was still a jolly, nice guy most of the time. Goodwitch on the other hand? Oh, she was an entirely different beast altogether. Yang could still remember the first time the infamous professor gave them detention for fooling around in combat class.

She shivered, never again.

Speaking of Professors, the cockpit door swung open and the pair's current chaperone emerged into the Bullhead's cabin. Port was a large, elderly man with gray hair, a red burgundy suit, and one fairly well kept mustache stylized like a gentleman. He had a large blunderbuss slung over his shoulder with two axe blades attached to the butt of the rifle. Standing tall and proud, the man held himself high, if a bit overblown in the girl's humble opinions.

"Now as you know, we'll be arriving at Braunes Holz soon," he announced, "They've had a dreadful time with Grimm as of late, especially in the past week or so. They're a burly lot, surviving out in the wild but one cannot underestimate these creatures."

Port marched himself down the center of the aisle, hands pressed against his back, "Worse yet, we haven't heard a peep from them since their distress call. Very concerning."

"So…how do we know anyone's still out there?" Yang asked.

The Professor raised a finger at her question, "That's just it, we do not! But, we've been called to provide aid, and that's what we shall do! Be it helping survivors, driving off the Grimm, or collecting the fallen, that is our duty."

"Normally, we wouldn't involve students of your standing in a mission such as this, but I'm certain the two are more than prepared for whatever we might find!"

Yang smirked. She liked how that sounded.

"...and of course, after your…recent time on the town, the faculty agreed your team needed a bit more, guided experiences to…curb your excitable tendencies."

Blake sunk even deeper into her book, to the point only her 'bow' was visible.

Her partner promptly deflated.

While Team RWBY and their friends would call their little late night investigation in Vale a rousing success, the teachers back at Beacon were less than pleased. Sure, none of the students were injured, and they had technically uncovered what was going on in the underbelly of Vale but according to them, that was no excuse. Students going out on their own, fighting the White Fang, causing untold property damage, acting like vigilantes…

To say Professor Goodwich was displeased was an understatement.

Weiss was convinced that if it wasn't for the Headmaster being far more lenient than expected, detentions would have been the least of their worries. Instead, Team RWBY had to do 'other activities' in order to make up for their blunder, which is how Blake and Yang landed in the mess they were in.

On one hand, they got to take part in a mission! On the other hand, they were basically being babysat by Port to make sure things didn't get too out of hand.

But as Blake would say, it could have been much worse.

"Nevertheless!" Port announced, "That is behind us! You are to be Huntresses, representing humanity! Vale! Beacon! And yourselves! This shall be one of your first steps into the world beyond, and I fully expect you to make that step with one bully of a leap!"

Yang chuckled, "But with no launch pads, right teach?"

"Haha! Of course not! I always disagreed with that addition to the Initiation. Launching your students into the forest? Bah, back in my day, we used to march headfirst into the wilderness! Weapons in hand, ready to meet whatever the world wanted to throw at us with grit, teeth, and determination!"

Blake sighed, shooting Yang a look as horror dawned on the Blond Brawler. Less than twenty minutes before they were free from this metal death trap and now they were stuck listening to another one of Port's tales.

Snapping her book shut, Blake glanced out the window and watched as they sailed over an endless sea of trees.

Port's blustering aside, making a 'bully' of a leap?

Didn't sound too bad honestly.


After Landfall.


After being there for a grand total of ten minutes, Yang had decided.

This place? It had seen better days.

The Bullhead made landfall in a clearing around a mile or two from the village. A bit of a distance but the pilot wasn't comfortable landing so close to a possible Grimm incursion. The duo and their professor didn't mind. For Blake and Yang it was basically a leisurely stroll through the woods. Even Port didn't mind, though it did give him an excuse to go into another tangent from his old hiking days.

Thankfully a swift arrival cut his monologue short for once.

Outwardly, Braunes Holz certainly lived up to its reputation. Rough, tough, and made to last. It had walls surrounding the village on all sides, made of the same logs they shipped to Vale every month. Whoever built the ways definitely made them to last. Yang mused that they could take a cannonball and not even flinch from the impact. Though as impressive as the construction was, the walls weren't in the best condition. Literal chunks of wood were missing, claw marks, scars, and the occasional acid burn littered various sections of the defensive structure.

Being the literal banes of humanity, you certainly can't say that the Grimm weren't persistent.

Ignoring the less than impressive condition the outer defenses were in, the residents of Beacon cautiously walked toward the main gate of the settlement. Two towering doors made of reinforced wood and steel. It was specifically made to be unbreakable, even to the point of being Goliath proof.

As they approached the gate however, Blake quickly noticed something amiss.

And it wasn't hard to miss.

The Gate was gone.

Well, it wasn't gone per say. Blake simply had a stinking suspicion that the gate was supposed to be a gate. Instead, she saw the cracked and splintered remains of the town's entrance laying inside its walls. It looked like someone had taken an oversized boot and kicked the gate completely inward.

"That's not supposed to be like that…" Yang muttered, "...right?"

Port furrowed his brow, "I'm afraid not.."

The Professor readied his weapon and motioned the two girls to do the same. Yang unfolded her gauntlets and readied a round in each chamber while Blake unsheathed her sword.

Slowly, the trio carefully walked through the ruined gate and into what remained of the village. Professor Port took charge, blunderbuss at the ready while his two students kept an eye out for Grimm. With a forest surrounding the settlement, there was no telling where the creatures could appear from at a moment's notice.

The town itself however, felt a little safer.

Braunes Holz was in utter ruins. Along with the damaged state of its outer walls, the interior of the town was in shambles too. Half the homes were either in complete disrepair or were bored up with planks covering every visible door and window. The sidewalks and roads had been trampled to hell and back. It was hard to tell what was a footprint, who made it, and how long ago it had been made. If someone tried to pull a cart through town, it'd flip over after less than five feet, the roads were that bad.

But the blood, oh the blood.

Yang nearly felt her lunch make an unwanted return while Blake? She tried to turn away, to avoid looking at it, but the blood was everywhere.

The streets, the buildings, even the walls. Blood covered everything.

Some of it was old, flaky and dried to the point of peeling. Other pools however, was fresh. Damp to the touch, a fact Professor Port found the hard way when he stepped into a puddle of it. The fact that there was enough for a literal puddle sent shivers up everyone's spine.

But Blake had the worst of it. She could smell it. The tangy, overpowering copper stench. It filled the air like a toxic gas. Even pinching her nose didn't help. It was everywhere on their clothes, their skin, everywhere.

"What did this?!" she hissed, "I know Grimm are vicious, but this seems a bit…much! Even for them!"

Port grimly nodded. She was right. Grimm were vicious and killed without mercy but they weren't this sloppy or, dare he say, blatant. The monsters from the dark would slaughter the village without warning, kill everything in their path and then move on. What use would they have to literally paint the town red? Maybe to mark their territory, but that was more in line with a much older, wiser Grmm.

Something was wrong, deathly wrong.

"Spread out, check for survivors." Port ordered, "But stay out in the open and yell if you see anything out of the ordinary!"

Yang and Blake shared a glance with one another, took a deep breath, and began to move. Each took special care to avoid stepping in any puddles as the moved toward the broken homes. Many were in absolute ruin. Yang could hardly believe someone could have lived in any of them. The doors were ripped from their hinges, ceilings caved in entirely, and the walls were being held together by splinters alone. The brawler wanted to move some of the debris to get a better look but it looked as if breathing on them was enough to make them collapse.

Blake's search didn't turn out much better at first. One by one, she walked up to the barricaded structures and took a peek inside.

Some were deserted. The walls were caked in dust and some furniture was haphazardly tossed around. Outside of that though, there was nothing to be seen. In her gut, Blake hoped whoever owned these homes had gotten out before things went truly south. Maybe some of their neighbors had boarded up these buildings, just in case.

But a bare few weren't as lucky. Blake leaned in close and peaked through a crack in a window. Her eyes widened and just as quickly snapped shut. The room itself was barren, almost completely pitch black. She couldn't see anything.

But there was one, small hole in the roof. Just large enough for a sliver of moonlight to seep inside…

…there was another pool of blood, and a hand, sitting motionless on the floor.

"No-!" she squeaked, trying to look away.

This wasn't the first time Blake had seen carnage like this. In fact, it was too familiar. But the freshness, the carnage? She didn't want to look at it, not now, not ever again.

Taking a deep breath, Blake steeled herself and stepped away from the house. She'd tell the professor about this but he could come and look at it himself. She wasn't so sure she could stomach the thought of getting a closer look, that's for sure.

As Blake stepped down off the porch however, her bow twitched.

She heard something.

It was quiet, almost dead quiet but Blake heard it. It wasn't a creaking floorboard, or the rustling of the trees. It was something else, something a bit more…lively, and it was coming from inside the house.

Blake flinched as she turned around, once more staring down the house itself. Reluctantly, the Huntress in training moved closer and once again peered inside.

Willing herself to avoid that particular spot, Blake scanned the room the best she could. It was still pitch black, no hint of moonlight was gonna light the entire room up. Everything else was just as dark as she recalled. But Blake was certain, she heard it. Something inside, something alive, and something…

There!

"Hello?..." she called out, just barely above a whisper, "Are you okay?"

In the vacant, empty room, far off to the side, something moved.

A small head peaked out from amidst the shadows. It was small at first, hard to see clearly. A lot of people might have confused it for something else. A cat, a dog, maybe even a raccoon taking up a new residence in the house after the owner departed.

Instead, something else poked its head out from the shadows and met Blake's gaze.

It was a little girl, curled up in the corner of the room with big, sad eyes. Her hair was an utter mess, caked in dirt. It was no wonder that Blake had missed her the first time. The poor thing practically blended in with the shadows. The Huntress would almost be impressed if the circumstances were different.

The poor girl's face was just as filthy as her hair, with cuts and bruises covering her from head to toe. Even her little brown eyes had sunk into her skin, and oh, they trembled. Even after revealing herself to Blake, the trembling never stopped.

She was terrified.

Blake slowly reached up and pried two of the boarded up planks apart, just enough to get her arm through. Gently, she reached her arm into the vacant house and offered her hand to the little girl.

"Its okay," she said, trying to sound reassuring, "We're here to help. I promise."

The little girl glanced back and forth at Blake, her eyes snapping to her face, then to her hand, and back again. Little gears turned in the girl's noggin, debating feverishly on what she should do.

"..."

Suddenly, the gears stopped.

The little girl's eyes widened and snapped away from Blake. She let out a frightened gasp and ducked back into the shadows, out of sight.

"No, wait!" Blake called out but it was too late, she was gone.

Disappointed, Blake withdrew her arm and sat for a moment. Had she been too forward? Too eager? No, she barely raised her voice, that was more Weiss' department. Maybe she should have just called Yang over to help instead. She was always the more approachable of the pair, more of a people person with her bright personality. Though knowing Yang, she'd tear the door off its hinges and be done with the whole mess. Now THAT would have spooked the poor thing.

What confused Blake though, was her eyes. She hadn't been looking at her when she ran off.

Question is, what was it then-


"Yo."


There was a voice, a chilling whisper that drifted across the village like a cold breeze.

A chill crawled up Blake's spine. She felt the hair on the back of hear neck stand on end. It was like someone was standing right next to her, whispering into her ear. Yet at the same time, it felt like a distant echo bouncing off the walls from a mile away.

Biting back her goosebumps, Blake turned on her heel and drew Gambol Shroud.

She scanned the courtyard. Her eyes darted from building to building, ruined or otherwise, watching for anything that seemed off or out of place. She saw Yang jump out of one of the ruined huts, Ember Celica cocked and ready. Her normally long and vibrant hair looked frazzled and unkempt. Whenever that happened, something was due to get punched into smithereens or set on fire. Maybe both even.

However, Yang didn't look that angry right now.

She was more…unnerved.

"You guys heard that too right?"


"Oh, I'd hope so."


Another chill.

Yang, Blake, and even Port turned their heads. They heard it clearly this time. It wasn't a whisper in the wind. It was a voice, a chilling, raspy voice echoing through the village. Casually calling out amongst the carnage.

Slowly, the trio's gazes found their way to the ruined gate they passed through just a few minutes prior.

Atop both the gate and the walls themselves were the remains of a watch tower. It was in horrible condition. The roof and walls had been completely demolished. One of the support beams cracked down the middle and was hanging on by splinters. Even the step ladder down to the battlements was in pieces, utterly useless.

Despite it being an utter wreck however, something stood atop the ruined tower. A figure, standing hunched over with one leg resting on the guardrail. Its frame was both lanky and muscular, covered in tattered rags and a cloak that looked like a large mane of raggedy fur. One of its hands rested on a knee, clawed fingers gently tapping against its gray, discolored flesh.

A large, white and red mask stared down at the destroyed town, a pair of eyes focused on the three bleeding hearts before it.


"Far more fun this way."


Elsewhere:


Down a dirt road, a large looming figure dove forward. Black fur fluttered in the wind. Clawed paws digging deep into the soft soil as it attacked. It brandished its claws, snapped its jaw shut, and glared with two glowing red eyes.

A thin white thread appeared across the Grimm's throat.


-Slink!-


A Beowolf collapsed, its head lopped off at its shoulders.

It joined three other corpses, each slowly dissolving against the night air.

Amongst these fallen beasts, someone reached toward their waist and sheathed a long black sword. A long coat fluttered in the wind, one with a black and green checkered pattern.

His head shot up, and sniffed the air.


Blood.


Taking a deep breath, the boy snapped in the scent's direction and took off in a sprint. Sandals practically slid across the ground like a flowing stream. The barest of footprints marked the earth as he ran.

A large wooden box gently bounced as the boy moved, lit underneath the fractured moon.


AN: So, here we are then.

RWBY is just about to close out one of its most bizarre, wildest, and emotionally driven Volumes after so long, and Demon Slayer has just returned with its third season. I say that calls for a crossover, don't you think? I honestly always felt like these two shows had quite a few overlapping qualities with their plots. Nothing worth saying one copied from the other of course, but enough similarities that a crossover would seem fun. I'm actually disappointed there are so few of them to be honest. But hey, what can you do?

Anyway, this is just the beginning my friends. I have two more chapters ready for what I'd call the, 'intro' to the story, and you'll be seeing them in the next couple of days. Then we'll be going for a more...weekly update schedule hopefully.

Till then, I hope you all enjoyed the beginning of Slayers of a Different Kind!