A/N: Hey, I'm back, and with the fourth chapter for this Arc of The Catalyst. Quick bit of backstory for the arc, these last three chapters were originally suppose to be one longer one, but I didn't like how it was going, so I broke it up into more piecemeal ones, which then turned into five... Hm, well, it happens. Enjoy!
RWBY is currently still owned by Roosterteeth, and the late Monty Oum.
The Catalyst
Chapter 7
As soon as the lights went out Oscar made his move. Not to overpower Winchester, no. The man was clearly larger and stronger then him, and he had a gun trained on him right now.
So, when the lights went out, Oscar immediately dove to the side while the man was distracted by whatever was out there. The officer shot at where he was as soon as he heard a noise, filling the room with a brief, blinding flash of light. Winchester then made to shoot at where Oscar had landed after the glare from his gun showed him where he was.
But Pine had already made his way off the floor from where he had landed. He jumped back up, back towards where he was just in time to narrowly avoid the next shot. He felt the projectile pass by the front of his dark green trench coat.
Then he ran, bull-rushing pass the larger officer as he grumbled to himself about the darkness. Somehow, Winchester had the wherewithal, and luck, to grab at, and catch him by his lapel as he made his way past the larger man. Shouting, "Halt there!" as he did so.
Oscar then took that as an opportunity to drive the butt of his cane into the side of the officer. Winchester grunted in pain as he felt a bone crack at the sudden blow. He flinched and let go of his prisoner as his hand spasmed nervelessly for a brief split second.
Oscar ran on.
Winchester turned, with a grunt of pain, after him and raised his pistol once more. He fired at the fleeing shadowy figure, twice more, wildly, as he stumbled after him with a hand clutched at his injured side.
Oscar felt the projectiles pass by as he sprinted all out for the hidden passage before him. "Halt, damn it!" Winchester snarled behind him before there arose a great clamber behind him, like that of a body falling into something heavy, like a cabinet or table.
Oscar vanished into the darkness beyond.
/ /
Oscar was already gasping for breath as he exited the short, dark corridor. And he meant dark. Pitch black, even. Darker even than the hidden room had been after being briefly blinded by Winchester's gunfire.
He didn't understand that. It was illogical. The passage shouldn't have been so dark. So, so why? Why was it so dark?
He could do nothing to process that, both the situation he currently found himself in and the illogical nature of that passageway.
And, the cold! It was so damned cold all of a sudden.
Why? Why was it so cold?
He shivered, numbed from the cold as he staggered toward the still opened door to the Director's office. Idiot! He thought as he did so. That's how they were able to find you so quickly.
He shook the self-depreciating thoughts from his mind as he continued forth.
On exiting the room he was stopped by the sight before him, the corpses of the two other constables.
The one before him had been cut in twain, his body bisected from the left shoulder all the way through to the right hip with both arms severed below the elbows as well. Around his body was the spent shell casing of bullets, far more than had been previously heard as were his severed arms, gun in hand.
The other constable had no identifiable means by which he had died. At least not from what he could see. The only thing about his person was the look of sheer terror on his ashen face.
Oscar blinked at that and shook his head before reaching down to take the dead man's revolver. As he did so he heard a series of heavy footfalls behind and turned just in time to find Winchester body slam into him.
He gasped and expelled a breath of air violently as he was slammed into the opposing wall, losing his cane in the process. It being sent skidding across the ground.
He collapsed then as Winchester stepped away from him, his face one of distorted rage and numbing cold. There was even hoar frost on his side burns and stubble and his face was deathly pale.
"W-w-where do y-you think your goin'?" The belligerent man growled as he then stalked back up to Oscar before grasping at the lapels of his coat and lifted him bodily from where he slumped, gasping against the floor and wall.
Before either of them could do anything there came a strange sensation from down the hallway once more. They turned to look that way while staying in place and watched as the corridor drew darker and darker with a cold mist gathering before the gloom beyond.
They stood there, transfixed, as something, some shape, began to manifest beyond the hallway. Deep within the gloom.
Oscar felt his eyes widen as he saw the first signs of color. A deep, blood red that was somehow still see-able even in the deepest darkness. "The Red Phantom? No. It can't be. There's no such thing as ghosts." He hissed in disbelief.
But the apparition didn't care about his lack of faith in it as it continued to materialize before them. As it ghosted up towards the two formerly battling men, Winchester let go of Oscar, dropping him bonelessly to the dusty floor once more and pulled out his revolver. "I don't know what ya are, but, by God, I will shoot you, if you don't stop! Now!" He shrieked half in rage and half in fear.
The entity didn't seem to care as it continued to drift towards them, its form still largely hidden by the ever encroaching darkness and cold mist.
"Stop! Stop, damn-it! Stop!" The constable howled as he began firing wildly again. The thunderous roar of his big pistol echoed eerily in the hallway as he did so.
Oscar stared in silent horror as the three round past through the apparition without doing any lasting damage. The officer gasped in horror at that before turning about face and outright fled from the building.
Oscar scrambled to his feet to follow after him. As he did he looked back to find the ghostly apparition suddenly almost upon him.
For the first time he could get a good look at it.
It floated there above the ground, a long, blood red cloak and hood with no visible form within. Seemingly protruding from the red cloak were several shadowy tendrils.
He gasped at that as he began to back away. As he did so, it suddenly darted up right in front of him supernaturally quick causing him to fall backwards, tripping over his feet in surprise.
As he sat there looking up at it, from under its hood a silver light suddenly glinted at him, looking for all the world like a baleful eye glaring down at him. He shivered and gasped as he felt something icy clutch at his heart. His vision began dimming as he gasped for air and his heart pounded painfully fast in his chest while it continued to gaze down at him hatefully.
Dying. I'm dying! He thought with horror as he stared into that silver light, feeling like his soul was leaving him.
Then his hand found his cane as he fell back on the floor on his back as he felt blood filling the back of his mouth. He clutched at the cane instinctively as he continued to lie there, dying.
Instantly, he felt the pressure on his heart vanish and he gasped for breath as his vision returned to normal. The entity seemed to find some form of displeasure in that. He couldn't be sure, as it had no defining features, save for that silver eye, but the room darkened perceptibly further and the cold worsened until it hurt for him to breathe.
He grunted, groaned as he made his way back to his feet and began to back away again, still gasping for breath as his teeth chattered from fear and the cold. For the first time, he realized that he couldn't see that green glow anywhere anymore, and it had positively infused the surrounding area when he had last looked around.
He didn't realize how comforting that had been until now as he continued to back away, his cane held before him defensively as he tried to get away. He blinked as within the blink of an eye there appeared a great, silvery scythe in its hands?
He stared at that scythe, and once again it felt his breath was being stolen away by the cold as his heart began to beat uncomfortably fast. Somehow he tore his gaze away from that only find it fall on that cold, deathly silver orb.
Once more, the apparition darted forwards towards him, faster than he could see. He raised his cane instinctively once more as it did so.
He let loosed an uncommonly high, inhuman squeal of pain as he found his back slammed once more into the wall behind as the entity slashed at him with its weapon. Somehow, impossibly, the cane's collapsible shaft not only withstood the mighty blow but remained unmarred at the impossibly sharp edge. He could feel his skin bleed somehow just by being in that blade's presence.
What was this thing? What was that blade? What was happening?
"What, is, this? What, are, you?" He groaned, grunted as he felt the aged stone behind him beginning to crack and crumble behind him. How, he didn't know. He should've been squashed like a bug from the velocity of the attack alone.
The entity said nothing to him in answer. Instead, it swung its weapon at him again. He grunted at he was further embedded in the wall behind him at the power of the blows. As the scythe continued to cleave at his meager, if somehow still unbroken, defense, Oscar noticed that with every blow a score of greenish sparks discharged from the cane.
He also noticed, that with every blow, the sparks grew in volume, while his ability to breathe worsened.
Finally, after one hit too many, Oscar felt as well as heard the wall shatter behind him and, unable to brace himself for the next hit, was blasted out from the building forcefully on the next blow.
He cried out in shock as he was flung away before crashing heavily into the ground far below at the back of the asylum. He hadn't know that the rear of the estate was a steep hillside.
On impact, he lost consciousness.
/ /
He came awake slowly, painfully.
He blinked as he found himself on his back, looking up at the brightening sky. He had remained unconscious for the duration of the night. He blinked at that as he laid there for a moment, not wanting to move, before attempting to get up as he felt the taste of copper in his mouth.
He groaned heavily as he climbed back to his feet unsteadily, even with his cane in hand. He brushed at the thick pile of soil clinging to his shoulders as he turned around to look at the asylum behind him. Somehow, it looked even older now.
In fact, as he stood there staring at it, a portion of the wall from where he had been tossed through suddenly broke off and crumbled away into a series of smaller pieces as it tumbled down the hill towards him.
He blinked at that and made to scratch at his head in confusion. Only to wince and hiss in pain as his hand came away wet with fresh blood. That, wasn't good. Probably.
He turned and started away, after seeing that the specter, The Red Apparition, was no longer there.
He didn't make it two feet before -
Crack!
- He was once more thrown to the ground as a big, beef fist collided with his chine perfectly. He bounced once, eyes rolling, before landing on his back hard as his cane flew out of his grasp, once more.
He groaned and blinked as he looked up at the sky, confused at how he found himself in this situation. As he laid there, the sky was suddenly blocked out by the unpleasant visage of Officer Winchester, who glare down at him before he then started to punch him in the face repeatedly.
As he did, he gritted out bitterly with each blow, "What did you do? Why did you kill my men? My friends? They were my brothers, damn it! They trusted me. To protect them. To keep them safe. and you killed them!"
Oscar coughed, spitting up blood as tried to speak through the already swelling bruises on his face. He blinked through the tears as he heard someone softly call his name.
He glanced over as they called again to find some shadowy figure rushing towards them. Winchester saw them, too, and drew his revolver again to shoot at them. He didn't bother to warn the man, and it was a man, now that Oscar could see them more clearly through his blurry vision, as he made to fire.
The revolver went off once before the man closed with the burly constable, driving at his face with a raised foot. The kick snapped the big man's head back, breaking his name in the process, and caused him to stagger away from Oscar's prone, broken form.
The two continued to fight, brawl, really, away from Oscar's limited vision. He blinked again and time seemed to jump forwards to the sound of another gunshot, followed by more grunting and cursing as the sound of fighting continued.
Then it stopped.
He blinked again and looked over slowly to the sounds of someone coming towards him slowly. His eyes widened as he recognized the war veteran, Qrow Branwen, standing over him then. The man had a shiner of a black eye and was clutching at his side, but he smiled toothily as he saw Oscar looking at him.
"Easy naow, boyo," He said gravelly as he knelt next to him and placed a hand on his chest. The hand had bloody knuckles. "I got's ya."
He looked around then before turning to grasp Oscar by the shoulders and started dragging him away. As he did so, he said, "Come on, naow. We's got's ta go before more of that slum'ering lummox's friends show up. Knowing them, they won't hesitate to shoot us on arrival."
Qrow continued to talk to him, but Oscar didn't hear anymore, having lost consciousness once more.
A/N: Well, that got out of hand real fast, didn't it. Surely none of you thought that the Red Apparition was going to be an ally, I hope? This is a Lovecraftian work, after all. The Elder Things/Outer Gods are rarely, if ever "Good" after all. In fact, barring something like Bloodborne, they are often actively hostile (And, even when they aren't, they'll still drive a mortal insane just from their presence alone.)
Anyway, see you soon. Essiter out!
