A/N: Hey, look at that! I got the third chapter out in the same day that I said I would. It's a rarity for me. God forbid I ever get a contract with a publishing company for my book. They would hate how long it take me to get these out.
Anyway, enjoy!
RWBY is owned by Roosterteeth and the late Monty Oum
The Catalyst
Chapter 6
Oscar snuck by the constable as the oblivious blue-haired man was looking down the other hallway. The hallway that he needed to go down, now. He sighed softly as he avoided the man for the third time tonight.
Somehow, these men were dumber than he originally thought.
Well, two of them, at any rate. The others were quite clever, be it Winchester's cunning sense of intuition or the pudgy, brown-haired one standing guard at the front entrance, right where Oscar had wanted to go.
Now, he was sneaking around the side branches of the main building of the Asylum, skirting these two idiots while he made his way back to the Director's office. And, getting equal part frustrated and unnerved by being here.
There was something here. Something wicked. He could feel it in his bones, in his skin. It was a cold thing. So cold that it burned.
He wanted to finish this investigation as soon as possible before whatever it was finally roused itself and came after him.
To that end…
He picked up a shard of the broken ground next to where he was kneeling next to the wall, and threw it away from him. It struck the floor some thirty feet away before bouncing and rolling to a stop near one of the opened rooms.
The officer immediately turned and projected the light from the flashlight in his hand at where he had heard the sound coming from with a muttered grunt of, "Huh? Wha' was tha'?"
He paused for a moment in place before finally moving off towards the room while Oscar once more snuck by.
He shook his head once more as he strolled away. Seriously, who had trained these officers? If it wasn't Winchester's stereotypical hillbilly bigotry, then it was the others falling under the stereotype of just plain dumb ol' flatfoots.
Ugh, he was almost tempted to complain to whoever was over the local constabulary just from seeing all of this. Maybe his old captain might be able to have a word with whoever that was, if he didn't already know who they were, anyway.
Bang!
He was snapped out of his thoughts as an echoing bang was heard from somewhere nearby. He slumped down in and began making his way towards the nearby corner. He paused as he got there before dropping into a crouch and glanced around the corner. And, there was the other officer he had been avoiding all night, standing there cursing to himself as he held a hand with the other while he shook it.
At his feet was a metal grate that Oscar hadn't seen earlier. As he knelt there Winchester suddenly appeared from the grate, slamming it back on the ground behind him as he rose to tower over the other officer.
"Shit, Thrush! I told you to hold the damned grate! Do you know how frackin' hard it is to lift from below?!" The large man bellowed in ire. The two began to bicker then while Oscar watched.
He glanced around then, trying to find where he was after having gotten twisted around with all the back and forthing he had done playing Hide and Seek. Quickly reorienting himself thanks to an old, faded map on the wall he set off, sneaking by the still bickering pair. He didn't notice if either of them had noticed him leaving.
Not that he cared. He was almost to the Director's office now, he couldn't get caught now!
After finally making his way to the office he quickly took out his lock-picking kit and got to work. After a quick bit of work with the lock he was in.
He checked around the immediate area before stepping inside and closed the door behind him. Then he looked around the room.
It was not what he was expecting for the office of a director of a medical facility, even for one in charge of a loony bin. Instead, he found a bunch of pictures and diagrams of strange symbols and sigils up on the walls while the few papers that he found in the cabinets and draws of the decrepit room were of abstract ideas that had nothing to do with medical care, as far as he was concerned.
He sat down in the chair at the desk as he read over the paperwork again, pondering over why it was there. What was the reasoning behind this? From what he had gathered, Watts had been a genius, or, at least, before he had disappeared.
He had been unable to find out whether or not the man had disappeared before the subsequent incident which had closed down the facility.
As he did so he sat back in the chair to think and he immediately jolted forwards with a cry of alarm as the chair sank backwards further and with a subtle click a panel opened behind him. He coughed and adjusted the tie he wore to hide his discomfort and embarrassment at being startled by such an obvious gimmick.
After a quick check to make certain no one was outside he made his way into the tunnel within the hidden panel. A short hallway later and he found himself in a far different room. One where it was obvious his uncle had been in.
How?
There was a curious charm hanging from a hook embedded in the ceiling. A fresh, clean-looking metal hook. The charm was in the shape of a series of gears within gears that reminded Oscar of… something. Something that happened at the abbey.
He looked around this new room. It was covered in symbols, sigils and signs of various natures. A few of which glowed that same green he kept seeing. Those same ones also hurt his eyes and gave him a headache. He decided to not look at those as he went over the paperwork he found there.
As he read over the documents he came to the conclusion that Watts was indeed a genius, and a mad one at that. The documents were on how to stop the aging process, by stopping all bodily functions within a subject, and there had been several experiments on the theory. All had died, horribly.
Click!
Oscar paused as he heard the distinctive sound of a gun's hammer being cocked. Specifically, that of a revolver. He froze in place at hearing that, documents in hand.
"Raise you hands, and turn around slowly." Winchester ordered firmly from behind him. Oscar did nothing. He was alone, with no one knowing he was here, besides perhaps Glynda, and he didn't trust that as soon as the man recognized him, he shoot him.
He seemed like that kind of unstable person. After all, he was here at an abandoned asylum with a group of cops looking for… something. Him, maybe?
Bang!
With a resounding, echoing bang, the gun went off, shattering the gear charm, showering Oscar with pieces and causing him to instinctively flinch. But he didn't turn around.
"Did you hear me?" Winchester roared then as he chambered the next round in his gun. "I said, turn around. Now!"
Then he shot at Oscar again, ricocheting a bullet off the ground next to Oscar, cutting his leg in the process from the ricochet. Oscar didn't move, nor did either of the two notice as some blood from his wound began seeping down his leg to pool around the floor next him, going into the grooves of the symbol that had been worked in there.
"I'm gonna warn you, one more time! Raise your arms over your head and turn around, or I'm going to break you in two. Do it! Now!" The officer boomed forth as he made his way forwards towards Oscar finally. Oscar imperceptibly tensed up, getting ready to defend himself.
Before either could do something the radio on Winchester person activated, "Sergeant? You there?"
"What is it, Thrush? I'm in the process of apprehending a potential suspect right now?" Winchester barked into the commlink.
"Uh, sarge? You there?" Came the reply. "There's something strange going on out here? The lights are flashing and its getting really cold for some reason. …I didn't even know that the power still worked around he- Hey, Lark, what's that! That! Over there!"
The two looked at the radio as the officer on the other end kept talking nervously into it. Oscar blew his breath out then as he felt a sudden, deep chill of his own and glanced up at Winchester, who didn't notice.
Then, "Hey, hey, what's that there? I mean, what is that. It's like a shroud or a cape? No, a cloak. A red cloak. And -HaaAAaaHH! Static!
The froze at the bloodcurdling shriek followed by the sounds of gunfire from beyond the room they were in. They paused, glancing at each other without ever really noticing the other as the room got darker, darker. Colder.
Then the lights went out.
A/N: Sorry to end it there, and on such a cliffhanger, but that's where the stroy told me to stop. You got to follow the musew these things. Still, I hope you enjoyed it, and the bit of madness that was Watts in this. I wonder IF he'll return later on, too.
Essiter out!