I don't own RWBY or Call of Cthulhu
In the Seirra Navadas, along the Donnor Pass, California
August 13 1924 (11 days prior to Amidst The Ancient Tree's)
3rd POV
The scene opens up back in the bar car of the train. Shortly after Midnight. A few of the staff along with some Pinkertons were inspecting the scene as they wondered what in heavens name happened. It was a rather noisy affair and it draw in the attention of some of the sleeping guests aboard. If the whole panic of gunshots and murderous enigmas were not bad enough, the train was for the moment delayed due to the strong winds and the sudden downfall of snow. As the chaotic mess of multiple voices, the scene pulls on Weiss sitting by herself as she stares out the window at the snow.
She was asked to remain behind for some questions… truth be told she didn't feel like answering any of them. Far as anyone was able to tell, the man whom was a Pinkerton Agent suffered severe frostbite and went berserk. While hypothermia does have halogenic symptom's that does not account for the savage and almost rabid behavior it showed. As Weiss looks on, at the cold mountains she could have sworn she saw something up upon the ridge. Something peaking out from beyond the mountains. As she tried to get a good look a voice calls her back to the train.
"Ms. Schnee?" A voice from behind asked. Weiss turned around to see that Pinkerton Agent. Maria. "Ms. Schnee, is it?"
"Yes, sorry what was your question?" Weiss asked as she straighten herself.
"I just want to hear it again… from your perspective. What happened here?" Maria asked as she pulls out a notebook and pen.
"(Sigh), as I told your colleges and the conductors of this railway. I came in to get some tea. I found Mr. Philips at the bar and sat beside him when your colleague came in. As the Bar tender and Mr. Philips told you, he begin attack to which we promptly defended ourselves till you arrived and… handle the situation." Weiss remarks stoically.
"Yes. But was there anything out of the ordinary? People don't normally become living frost ridden ghouls." Maria said with some sarcasm in her voice.
Weiss thought about it for a few moments before answering, "No. I didn't heard anything."
Maria stared into her eyes, looking to see if Weiss was lying, looking for that tick. However Weiss was more accustomed to these kinds of tactics faced down in a board room. She easily held a stoic look upon her face as she stared back at Maria. Maria looked on into those steely blue eyes of hers before backing off. She then noticed the scar on side of Weiss neck and tried a different tactic.
"Must have been painful." Maria remarks as she said as she pulls out a cigarette. Offering it to Weiss who declined. "Want to see my scars?"
"I'd prefer not to." Weiss rebuttals.
"Hmm, well I earn them on the western front." She said before lighting a match. As she takes a drag, she unrolled her sleave to reveal a nasty scar. "See, I was originally a part of the Oakley sniper Brigade, was attached with the 77th Marine battalion, we were sent into the Argonne Forest out on the western front. The things I saw while trapped in those woods was… well no way to describe it but hell. As we were surrounded, hounded for days by the Kaisers worse… I can only say that it's a miracle that we escape. The things we humans are capable of…"
She seems to pause as she stared off, creeping Weiss out before exhaling the smoke into Weiss Face. "Anyways, these scars are a reminder of what someone is capable of in the right circumstances. Those scars I see on you tell me that you are more than just a frail thing."
"(Cough, Cough) Riveting but is their point to this." Weiss said as she waved the smoke from her face.
Maria didn't say anything, but taking another drag as she blew smoke into Weiss face. After a few moments she spoke "Nothing, just that I'll be keeping an eye on you."
"Right…" Weiss said sarcastically as she see's Fausta enter the dinning car. "Now if your done needling me I'd like to try and rest after this eventful evening."
Maria allows for Weiss to leave, but keeps an eye on her as she leaves the bar car to return to her cabin. Weiss felt the eyes on the back of her as she leaves, but didn't dare to look back as she didn't want to break her stoicism or reveal anything though a tell. She motioned for Fausta to followed her with her eyes. Fausta while confused on the whole affair only waking up a few minutes ago to the sound of multiple footsteps and hushed voices. Following after Weiss who exits the bar car did she asked Weiss, "¿Qué demonios fue todo eso?" (What the hell was that all about?)
"Hubo un atentado contra mí." (There was an attempt made against me.) Weiss responds back in Spanish before pausing. "No actually it was less of a personal assault and more of a ravenous Boarbatusks if anything."
"…Que?!" Fausta asked with a raised brow.
"(Sigh) a rabid animal like a boar. The man or former Pinkertons attacked us." Weiss explains.
"Ohhh, wait attack you? What for?" Fausta asked with a raised brow.
"… it's rather hard to explain… he was covered in miniature icicles, as if he were frozen in place… eyes gone. Or rather by the blood on his fingers torn out." Weiss said with a slight hesitation in her voice. She had seen many scenes of disturbing death on Remnant, the Brunswick being one of the more nightmarish cases. But to know a man had ripped his own eyes out… has shaken her usual stoic persona.
" Querido señor… (Dear lord…) just what happened to him?" Fausta asked with a raised brow.
"To be honest, I don't know. Reminds me of a series of films back home." Weiss said as she thinks back to those shoddy B rated movies about the Chill. "But that's not the disturbing part. I swore I heard him say something before he…"
Weiss took a moment to shudder. She still reeling from the experience but didn't show it. Least in front of Maria. Her experience with her had made her wonder if all those angry sometimes intoxicated rants about the Pinkertons were true or not. "I heard him say something. Granted most of what he was saying before the attack sounded gibberish but this one word stuck out to me. Avaloth. Does that mean anything to you?"
"Do I look like a Yankee egghead?" Fausta remarks as she stops to cross her arms as she leans beside their compartment door. "I couldn't tell you if that was Spanish much less English you just said."
"Alright, I had to ask." Weiss said as she put her hand to her chin. "I can't help but feel that name is important somehow… not sure why."
The two remained quiet trying to rack their minds about the strange almost name like word. Neither one could come to mind about what such a thing is. That's when the door suddenly opens with a great thud causing the two to turn. It was Mr. Philip who had reduced his professional attire by unbuttoning his upper shirt and loosening his tie. As he was making his way back to his cabin, Weiss then called out to him.
"Mr. Philips." Weiss called out gaining his attention.
"Hmm, oh. Ms. Schnee. Ms. Bell. I'm sorry but I think I'd like to retire for the evening if it's alright." Mr. Philips said trying to pass by the two on his way to his Cabbin at the end of the trolly.
"Understandable but I wish to ask you something quickly." Weiss said as she followed up behind him. "Does the name Avaloth sound familiar?"
Mr. Philips pauses for a moment. Rubbing his eyes as he tries to think about it. Truth be told he was rather shaken up by the whole affair as unlike Fausta or Weiss, he had never seen a dead body before. He considered for a moment as a means to get his mind off what he saw. As his mind racks about for such a name, nothing has come to mind. Yet somehow he can't help but feel like he had heard it somewhere before.
"… Hmm. I'm not sure. Um by chance can I give you an answer in the morning?" He said with exhaustion.
"Of course. Breakfast at 8?" Weiss added.
"Yes… that might due." Mr. Philips nods tiredly. "Good night Ms. Bell, Ms. Schnee."
They gave a nod before heading to their cabin. After a few moments they were dressed and had converted the seats into a bunk bed. A bit uncomfortable for Weiss's taste but she was more focused on the event that accord to pay much mind to the bed. As her mind drifted to sleep. The Blizzard outside had begun to fall harder, shifting the train back and forth as if it were out at sea in a violent storm.
Weiss Dream POV
I can't help it but feel cold. Which is strange for me. I grew up in Atlas. Even in the most climates-controlled parts of my family mansion the cold would always seep in. Yet here it felt as though the coldest days that would claim the lives of the poorest in Mantels slums were simply a light breeze. Shuddering I look around only to find myself in a strange frozen lair. It looked like a large and loathsome cave, yet the walls and stalactite roof had frozen over entire in such a strange way that it gives it the Illusion that I was not in some desolate Grotto, rather I had entered a decorative temple of some ancient region that existed in a long forgotten Ice epoch. Examining the wall, it had such strange and foreboding cryptograph sigils I couldn't think of such a person being of sound mind able to scratch such a thing. As I studied these runes I heard a whisper, carried up from deep withing the cave.
Vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah. mgfm'latghnah ng yikwatin cahf mggoka legethog ot kisê. Vulgtmah ah vulgtmah ah gnaiih ot frost. H' êkwa nipâpâwâw l' uln c' nilgh'ri. H' ahmggoka ayânisakamiginauwin l' mgfm'latghnah kîsikîw iskwîw vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah! Vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah. mgfm'latghnah ng yikwatin cahf mggoka legethog ot kisê. Vulgtmah ah vulgtmah ah gnaiih ot frost. H' êkwa nipâpâwâw l' uln c' nilgh'ri. H' ahmggoka ayânisakamiginauwin l' mgfm'latghnah kîsikîw iskwîw vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah! Vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah. mgfm'latghnah ng yikwatin cahf mggoka legethog ot kisê. Vulgtmah ah vulgtmah ah gnaiih ot frost. H' êkwa nipâpâwâw l' uln c' nilgh'ri. H' ahmggoka ayânisakamiginauwin l' mgfm'latghnah kîsikîw iskwîw vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah! Vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah. mgfm'latghnah ng yikwatin cahf mggoka legethog ot kisê. Vulgtmah ah vulgtmah ah gnaiih ot frost. H' êkwa nipâpâwâw l' uln c' nilgh'ri. H' ahmggoka ayânisakamiginauwin l' mgfm'latghnah kîsikîw iskwîw vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah!
As I hear the chant echoing down the cave, I begin to be drawn by it. Slowly making my way deeper down into the frozen abyss, methodically to keep my steps from echoing on the snow covered ground. Slowly I made my way in, finding a large opening, vertical cave that curves to give a dome appearance with a large sky roof. At the center seems to be a group of wild hairy figures adorn in a number of antlers strapped to their heads. Dancing around a strange wicker man effigy. As they dance around, I heard the chants that had echoed in the hallway. Leaving their lips as they danced provocatively.
Vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah. mgfm'latghnah ng yikwatin cahf mggoka legethog ot kisê. Vulgtmah ah vulgtmah ah gnaiih ot frost. H' êkwa nipâpâwâw l' uln c' nilgh'ri. H' ahmggoka ayânisakamiginauwin l' mgfm'latghnah kîsikîw iskwîw vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah! Vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah. mgfm'latghnah ng yikwatin cahf mggoka legethog ot kisê. Vulgtmah ah vulgtmah ah gnaiih ot frost. H' êkwa nipâpâwâw l' uln c' nilgh'ri. H' ahmggoka ayânisakamiginauwin l' mgfm'latghnah kîsikîw iskwîw vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah! Vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah. mgfm'latghnah ng yikwatin cahf mggoka legethog ot kisê. Vulgtmah ah vulgtmah ah gnaiih ot frost. H' êkwa nipâpâwâw l' uln c' nilgh'ri. H' ahmggoka ayânisakamiginauwin l' mgfm'latghnah kîsikîw iskwîw vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah! Vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah. mgfm'latghnah ng yikwatin cahf mggoka legethog ot kisê. Vulgtmah ah vulgtmah ah gnaiih ot frost. H' êkwa nipâpâwâw l' uln c' nilgh'ri. H' ahmggoka ayânisakamiginauwin l' mgfm'latghnah kîsikîw iskwîw vulgtmah ah, vulgtmah ah!
As they chant and dance, I couldn't help but hear something from within the Wickerman. A silent cry in anguish. Looking closer I noticed someone within the effigy. It looked like a woman. She was covered in blood and naked yet completely deranged. Her words were muffled by the loud chanting of those wild men. As they do, the women seems to be squirming with agony. That's when I heard it, a blood curdling scream. This sent the wild men into a frenzy, tearing at themselves in an act of cannibalistic ecstasy. Horrified I took a step back, only to trip over something. That's when I discovered a morbid fact that I had not noticed initial about the verglas walls. The bodies, so many corpses, all with looks of horror left on their mutilated bodies, both humans and Faunas alike. I could hardly keep it together as I vomited in terror and disgust at the number of frozen cadaver. As I struggled to regain my composure, I noticed that their was a difference between the male and female victims that lined the wall.
The males had signs of something ravenous, their flesh was picked nearly clean from the bodies and their bones broken to reveal the marrow within had been sucked dry. The women were more intact with the lower Abdomen exploded outward as if something burst forth from within. Their faces stained with tears and their lips held open in a gape that I couldn't help but think that whatever had happened to these poor women, it was done while they were still very much alive. As my vision of this horrific display of mounted victims begin to narrow the screams of that trapped women cause me to turn back to the brutal display of barbarity. The wild men, soaked in their own blood like rabid beasts turn to the wicker man and begin to howler in such a profane manner.
The women let's out a horrible scream within that paganistic effigy. It goes quiet before a loud roar of some unknown beast burst through the wooden effigy. What it was… I could hardly put to words much less viciously look at the abomination of man and beast. It let out a loud bleating howl that I could not forget, before turning. Looking at me with those red crimson eyes that would make the oldest and hateful of Grimm seem kind. Those hairy pagans turned from their pause and like that unfathomable beast they too had spotted me. Fearing what they would do, I ran. Ran as far as my legs could carry me. Fear had overtaken my body and I ran screaming back down the tunnel. I didn't have my weapon on me, and even then, I wouldn't dare let Myrtenaster blade touch it fowl body.
As I ran I could only hear the sound of my feet pattering against the frozen floor, and the maniac and unnatural howls behind me. I am not the fastest of runners but I'm sure in this situation I could have outrun Ruby by a mile. As I ran I dared not look back out of fear of looking upon that unfathomed mess of hair and skin. I can still hear it, echoing in my head as I ran. Racing up, I saw light. The tunnel it was opening, out into the world above. I found new found hope as I rush forward. Though it was nearly dashed when I heard that insatiable bleating noise close behind. I had made it out of that frozen pit of inhumanity, just inches to freedom when suddenly I felt it. That cold and boney fingers, wrapping around my Sholder. They were so cold, my shoulder burned from the severe frost bite that burned its way through my night gown, skin. Down to my bone I could feel the cold chill of that malformed hand wrapping its long tendril fingers around my Sholder. Pulling back into the cave. I'd let out a loud scream before awakening.
3rd POV
Fausta who was already getting dressed, noticed when Weiss shot up in a cold sweat. She seemed a tad bit paler than before. As she seems to be sweating in shock, Fausta waited a few moments to let Weiss calm down. Before speaking to her.
"You alright?" Fausta asked.
"Yeah, just… bad dream is all." Weiss said as she looked over her shoulder. She begins to inspect it, feeling it as she finds it unnerving how it felt ungodly cold. Just then she noted a smudge on the window where her arm was. She let's out a small sigh as she considered that the dream was merely an effect of the cold. With a sigh she continued, "Just a bad dream. Nothing like the ones I had before."
"¿Oh, you mean the one about the Chico de pelo azul? ¿El Mono abiertamente camisero? ¿Oh, o ese francés de la brillante armadura? Ese parece ser uno de tus sueños favoritos." (Blue haired boy? The openly shirt Monkey? Oh or that Frenchy in the shining armor? That seems to be a favorite dream of yours.) Fausta asked in Spanish, smirking as Weiss pale face turned a shade of red as she grabs a pillow and throws it at Fausta's head as a kneejerk response.
"¡Silencio, viejo idiota! ¡Ni uno de esos malditos sueños!" (Hush you old fart! Not one of those damn dreams!) Weiss curses Fausta as she laughs lowly. Putting on her boot Fausta stands up as she grabs her Stetson. Turning to Weiss and adding one last Jab.
"Uh Huh, seguro que puedo ser viejo. Pero nunca he conocido a una chica que fuera más adecuada para mi época." (Uh Huh, sure I may be old. But I've never met a girl who was more of a prune for my time.) Fausta said as she fixes her hat. "Now, enough pillow talk. We agreed to talk with Mr. Philips about last night's incident. Do get dress. Unless tardiness is consider fashionable on your planet."
Fausta then walks out, letting Weiss change. She let's out a small hmm as she leaps off the bed. She grumbled to herself as she begins to get dress. As she does, the view pulls to the window, snow fell from the sky at an alarming rate, the condensation of the window fogs over, revealing a hand print left behind the upper portion of window near Weiss Bed. A strange large hand print pushed against the window, hovering over where Weiss was sleeping. It's long Boney hand left a disturbing impression by it's abnormal size and deathly thin slits that made it's fingers. As the view pulls in on the smudge, the view shifts to outside where the last thing the reader sees before the scene shift was the rustling of the snow-covered trees.
15 Minutes later, in the Dining car
In the dining car Weiss and Fausta sat as they looked out at the mountain side tree's. The storm did not disperse and had only gotten worse. The Train was moving at such a slow rate that one could simply walk briskly and be further down the tracks then the train itself. At this rate it might be to late for the train to move past the mountains or head back. As the staff move about working as diligently as possible for the hungry and concerned guests, the two nearly miss Mr. Philips as he stumbles in and bumps into a servant. After a brief apology he sits down at the table, clearly tired as he rings around his eyes stressed the sever lack of sleep he had the night before.
"You alright Mr. Greyson?" Fausta asked as she looks at him with some concern.
"Annoyed, but fine… why?" Philips said with a tired glance.
"You look rather… exhausted." Weiss comments with more concern in her tone then Fausta.
"Suppose I am… but I believe I told you I'm an insomniac by nature. But last night I might have pushed myself researching last nights question." Philips said as he rubs his eyes. He seems to be blacking out from the sheer exhaustion. Seeing this Weiss quickly turns to a nearby Waiter.
"Pardon me, can you get him some coffee… better make it with expresso." Weiss said as she points to Mr. Philips.
"Expresso?" The waiter asked with a raised brow.
"Um, on second thought make it the strongest you got." Weiss said as she realized that Expresso was not common, least on this side of the pound. She had to special order a tin from Milan and a steamer from La Rochelle. The waiter still not sure what an express is, recognize the severity of the mans exhaustion so with a nod to Weiss he quickly goes to the kitchen to get something nice and strong. As he leaves, Weiss turns back to Philips. "So, have you discovered anything from your late night, study?"
"Nothing… unfortunately." Mr. Philips said in a huff of sleep deprived annoyance.
"… well… ain't that dandy." Fausta said as she raised her hands in a huff.
"Yes, dandy… and infuriating." Mr. Philips said as he reaches into his satchel and puts down an unnamed book. Opening it up, he allows them to look through. It seemed to be a hand written account of multiple myths, gods, and spirits of multiple native tribes that lived in America prior or during the colonization of the new world. Flipping through the pages quickly much to Fausta's annoyance, Weiss searched for any reference as Philips continues, "I wrote down every mythology from the Wampanoag to the Atsugewi, the Yuit to the Mayans, and yet despite feeling I've seen this name before I still can't find it."
"Is it possible you had heard the name somewhere else?" Fausta asked.
"I have a copy of every adamic study, research, and paper on native lore written in that book. There is no way I'd miss it." Philips said nearly snapping at Fausta.
"Alright, alright, viejo tonto cansado." Fausta said as the waiter returns with a cup of coffee.
Taking the cup the Canadian downs the hot black liquid. Either exhausted beyond thinking straight or not carrying about the heat, he chugged the beverage before slamming the mug down on the table. He then turns to waiter. "Can I get another, thanks."
The Waiter nods and quickly goes to leave with the empty mug. Mr. Philips then turned to Fausta and said. "Sorry, but there is surely no way I would have missed such a detail."
"Maybe you did." Weiss remarks causing the two to turn to her. She set's down the book and points to a charted paragraph.
1921 April Log 42C: William Jones (Megasiáwa) Accounts of northern tribes and taboos
While reading over Black Eagles books, and articals I found that a number of these tribes ranging from the Algonquian languages family all make refence to some native boogie man of the far north. They have several names for it, but the descriptions are all the same. A great taboo and betrayal of the ultimate kind or a near hypnotic lure into the unknown darkness of the woods leads these tribes men to loose themselves. Become beasts. However in one of his early manuscripts I discovered while digging through Cambridges archives I found a mention of a secret tribe that would have lived in modern day Nova Scotia. The tribe didn't fear this beast but saw it as a sort of demi-god. Having similar relationships akin to the tribes of Oahu Spirit of Kaupe. They brought it offerings often times freshly caught feasts or captured tribes men from the surrounding communities. They refer to this entity as 'Eta Wape'g Jenteg' the White Silence. As I tried digging up more on the subject I was sadly at a loss, till I was recommended a specialist anthropologist in Arkham. M̶s̶. (Dr. now) Nadelmann. She told me that on her thesis she described the story on how this tribe didn't really revere the creatures but appeased them out of fear for the White Silence. When asked to describe the entity she begin calling it by some other name, Ava looth, least that's what she is using to describe 'Eta Wape'g Jenteg'. The entity roams the great white void of the north. Like some native American version of a Kazakame. It's unmistakable large being as tall as the mountains. A rather interesting myth, though she did went on some rather wild theory of a possibility this Ava-looth being a pre Columbian cult as a number of tribes make reference to the entity. Going as far south as the Mayans if you can believe her. Still I will give some credit to the Yank. Eta Wape'g Jenteg does share some resemblance to Itztlacoliuhqui, but it's probably a coincidence.
"Uhm… you sure that there is no possible way you can miss that name, tonto yanqui?" Fausta asked sarcastically only for Weiss to kick her boot under the table.
"You must be out of it. Perhaps after this you give yourself some proper sleep." Weiss said as Mr. Philips look over the page again.
"(Sigh) Perhaps so, Ms. Schnee. Perhaps so." Mr. Philips said feeling guilty he missed such a small detail. Rubbing his eyes he rereads the page, making sure to fully comprehend his own notes on Avaloth. "(Sigh) if my own notes are to be believe, and believe me Ms. Bell they are. Then supposedly Avaloth is some Multi cultural deity that had spread across the America's. northern Hemisphere. With a heavy relationship with an Aztek god. Suppose that's something I should look into when I get back east."
Weiss nods as she ponders some things. "Hmm, I wonder… the man was a Pinkerton, they were guarding that knife that was dedicated to this ice god. Seems rather coincidence."
"In a supersites way." Mr. Philip said with a chuckle. "Surely it can't be beyond a rather bizarre coincidence."
"Maybe… but knowing the Príncipes de nieve, she'd want a look anyways." Faust muses only to earn another bump from Weiss.
"Rude… but she is right. Couldn't hurt to look." Weiss said as she stands up. She then heads to the back of the train, as the other two only paused before following her. As they passed by the waiter with their food, they made their way to the Fourgon. Unaware that Maria was listening in on the conversation. She gives a nod to some men from a nearby table.
With the three, Weiss couldn't help but think back to her childhood. She swore she heard the name Avaloth before. But where? Perhaps that's why she is so keen on learning more about this knife of Itztlacoliuhqui. Making their way to the back, they found the door padlocked with a new lock and chain. Strangely by the looks of the door, it seemed as though a small grenade blew it's lock apart. Or rather the metal lock imploded from the cold leaving behind a rather ghastly splinter behind. Weiss gave the new lock a few tugs and found it sufficiently strong. She then reaches into her pocket and retrieved a small flask of Ice dust. She poured the powder in and within a few moments the lock expanded from the sudden cold. Making it easy to yank the lock off.
"What in the world is that stuff?" Mr. Philips asked with a peculiar glance at the dust powder that Weiss had used.
"Let's call in a family recipe." Weiss said as she tucks the powder back into her pocket.
Entering into the fourgon, they find a rather unsettling sight. The luggage that was stacked on shelfs were all on the ground in disarray. Signs of frost cracks stain the metal walls and wood like burn marks. Looking around closely, it seemed there was traces of frozen blood on the ground. The scene was rather terrifying to the group who looked around with some concern as they got closer to the center of the room.
"Dios mío, Just what happened here?" Fausta asked as she looked over the blood stains.
"Seems as though that man had the power of a bull moose… and no I'm not talking about your Politicians." Mr. Philips quips as he looks at the luggage that was torn in the scuffle.
Weiss didn't pay much attention to the two but was focused on a blood trail and spilled coffee, she found a familiar satchel by the side of the fourgon train door. Inspecting it, she realized that the satchels locks were missing and where they once were was now freezing to the touch. Opening it she found the item, being the very knife they went to find, to be missing. She set's it down before noticing something else. The door frame and the wall beside it, had a large claw mark. It was shallow at the edges but where it got closer to the palm, it felt deeper. Out of Morbid curiosity, Weiss put's her hand into the grooves of the claw mark. Much to her alarm, her hand fitted the grooves remarkably well, as though it was made by a human hand.
"Just what in Monty's name happened here." Weiss comments to herself as she backs up, bumping into someone.
"Just could say the something." A familiar voice from behind remarks. Weiss was about to turn around when suddenly she was pistol wiped across the back of the head. Where she fell to the ground, blacking out until consciousness failed her.
Hello Everybody, Wombag1786 here. Well, this ended on a strange note. Just who hit the snow queen upside the head? This chapter is rather a slow one but will it foreshadow what is to come. For those who know at least. Anyways the poll is still going on and I'm hopeful that a few more will vote. But enough about that, let's answer some comments and questions.
From Blackwing: Not as crazy as you think. After all… Remember what happened at the end of Arc 10. With the reveal of Director Blackwood.
Still doubtful of this year but hey thanks anyways.
Thanks for writing Blackwing8.
From Self-helper96: In the poll SH96, in the poll
Thanks for writing Self-helper96.
From Crimson Weresloth: Glad you enjoy seeing her go full John Snow… but this arc will make Ramsy snow. Ig you get the meaning.
Yeah… Blackwood and Pinkertons rivalry are at best incovient, and at worse… well blood and iron.
Thanks for writing Crimson Weresloth.
Well, that's it. This has been a short but necessary chapter. One with some needed context as the next few chapters will be revealing some horrifying secrets not only about what happened to the Donnor Party… but Remnant itself.
This is Wombag1786 Signing off.
1. The Painting of Zann
2. Cold winds of the Past
3. The Swine of Manchester
4. Five Year's of Red
5. The Jade Tiger of the East
6. The Sin of the Mother
7. The Sign of Witt
8. The Lost set
9. The King in the swamp
