I do not own Bloodborne or RWBY.
A very special thank you to Patrons; your support is the fuel that lets my creativity burn all the brighter. So, thank you to – E-Elf, and Lee yang.
I hope this story continues to be worthy of your support.
Chapter 9 Sinister Motions
*Buzz*
*Buzz*
Scarlett angrily snatched her Scroll from her purse, silencing it as a fresh slew of messages assaulted it rapidly. She scowled in frustration even as her stomach squirmed as she was confronted with the disturbing sensation of being watched.
"I wonder if Matt has another spare Scroll… dammit," Scarlett hissed, stuffing the frustrating device back in her bag. She was now well and truly fed up; all her well-spent effort to try and release the building stress in her head felt for naught. She was tired, on edge, and ready to snap at a moment's notice. She was well and truly sick of the constant slew of messages and the never-ending sensation of having eyes on her.
She was just plain sick of being stalked.
It started a couple of months after she started working for Mr Brown; It had been a day like any other. She took messages, signed for and sent mail, greeted visitors and, most importantly, tracked appointments. And then the calm of the day was destroyed when a rowdy group of Faunus stormed in, loudly demanding to see Mr Brown.
She had blocked them, standing between them and Mr Brown's office, stating they did not have an appointment and would need to make one if they wanted to see him. But rather than backing off, they had pressed forward, attempting to loom over her in some pathetic attempt at intimidation. The problem was that not even one of them could match her height, and they came across as less scary and more homeless, so she did what came naturally…
She laughed in their faces.
Her reaction stunned them, stalling any rebuttal long enough for Mr Brown, who proceeded to step out of his office with his bodyguards at his sides. The two men were forgettable, just two black suits wearing shades with short cut hair and green and silver ties. That was the point, she supposed; they were just security, a uniformed group paid to protect Mr Brown and his interests.
But the sight of them alone had the pack of Faunus backing off immediately, or it would be more accurate to say that the presence of both wielding Tier 2 Automatic Crossbows had them backing off. Both security guards had yet to raise their weapons, but the sight of the weapon's limbs flaring out, showing that they were ready to fire, sent a stringent message.
Mr Brown sent the group off, stating he had no time to deal with those who could not even pretend to act couth in the presence of a lady. When they had refused to depart despite his say, the Nagantaka came up with bolts ready to launch. The group had figured that Mr Brown didn't have the guts to commit murder, especially not in the middle of the day with a busy street just outside the window. His words following said statement had swiftly dissuaded them of that notion.
"Murder? The fuck are you on about? You clearly are out of your depth here, so let me explain something to you. These fine gentlemen are each holding a Nagantaka automatic crossbow; when they pull those triggers, there isn't going to be a bang, or a flash, just the sound of a bolt impacting that wall behind you." Mr Brown explained, pointing to the boring pale-yellow wall behind the group of shifty Faunus.
"After that, my secretary here will get a five-thousand-dollar bonus, and this office space will undergo some light renovation… wouldn't even take a week, to be honest. Then you lot, each and every one of you will be as hard to find as my own dear dad, that is to say, you will never be seen again… so what's it going to be, gentleman? Wanna help the pretty lady earn the bonus?" Mr Brown asked, adjusting his rose-red tie and patting down his dress shorts as his security continued to stand at the ready.
The group had left shortly after, eagerly and in a rush to escape the armed guard's presence and Mr Brown's cold glare. That is save for one of them; one of the unseemly group's members seemed to lag purposefully, his greasy blonde hair clinging to his forehead as he looked back. Twisted blue eyes stared at Scarlett intently, a yellow-toothed smile given as he walked out of the office with Mr Brown's security slamming the door shut behind them. At that point, she felt nothing more than a minor disgust at the Faunus's sickly-looking teeth.
Now she couldn't help but think it was more akin to an instinctual revulsion.
Scarlett wished they had resisted so that she wouldn't be in the situation she was in now. Had she known how much trouble would follow that day, she may have shot the group herself or maybe just the blonde bastard. After that day, she couldn't shake the nauseous feeling that clung to her whenever she left the house. The only places she felt safe were her own home and the office, but that didn't inhibit the restrictive feeling of being trapped.
Worse, it seemed to escalate continuously, from the feeling of being watched to spotting the lurking creep watching her, a looming ghoul at the edge of her vision. She caught him once in a compromising position, the sneaky bastard having followed her to the Trading Post while she was tasked with overseeing a delivery. Mr Brown's security had chased him off, and the feeling of being watched abated for a few glorious days.
Then the messages started.
Constantly over and over, the constant buzz filled up her Scroll, and no matter what she did, the fucker found a way around it. When the calls started, she made up her mind and went to one of Mr Brown's contacts to see if he could help her, to her surprise the contact had been a young man also fresh out of school who was, in fact, the head of Mr Brown's IT department.
Meeting Matt was probably the only positive that had come out of the entire slew of events, the young man being a dorky charming mess of a guy. He had folded to Scarlett's whims and even gone so far as to give her a brand-new Scroll, stating it was more secure than her old one anyway.
Thanks to Matt's efforts, she had three beautiful weeks where she was not bombarded by messages from different numbers or, worse, screwed-up calls. She still did not dare to do anything with social media, but then she hadn't done anything worth posting. She hadn't even gone out in what felt like months, only travelling to and from work. Maybe that was why she had all but jumped at the opportunity to go to the office party tonight, having been so eager that she had jumped out of her chair.
And it was great! Mr Brown knew how to treat his staff, taking all his direct subordinates to a club where they were treated like VIPs. She had danced herself into a stupor with a blushing Matt and quickly managed to outdrink one of the bodyguards, only the one; the others could handle their drink with terrifying ease. They had taken tons of pictures, and she had even seen Mr Brown living it up in his dress shorts and his jacket off. The rose-red tie always remained on; even if he let it loosen slightly, it continued to be on his neck, a staple of his look.
She had left early once Mr Brown had declared that they needed to finish off his tab, and any who stayed behind could crash at the office. As much as she may like her co-workers, she preferred the comfort of her bed to the couch in the break room. The others had seen her off, Mr Brown going so far as to offer her an escort of her choice as he gestured to the security. Seeing the pleading looks, they all gave her, though, decided for her; she waved the offer off and asked them all to close the night off strong for her.
She left to them, raising a glass in her name and was swiftly assaulted by the muggy, humid air of the outside world. It was late spring now, and Reach had been hit with several storms, leaving the air damp and thick as the residual heat of the late afternoon seemed to cling desperately to the town, tainting the night with the clammy feel. She had decided to walk home high on her happiness and the relief of being free from her constant stream of messages.
That's when her new Scroll buzzed.
Even now, it buzzed.
She wanted to curse, scream, and punch the wall, but instead, she picked up her pace, walking even faster on her route, far more eager to be home.
She should have known it would not be that easy.
Her pace was quick; she was grateful she had skipped the high heels, not that she needed them for height, and to be fair, her ass looked great in this skirt, even without heels. But despite her speed, she couldn't outpace the anxiety that seemed to prey on her as she hurried through the dark streets. As she came to a t-intersection with a garage directly to her left, her Scroll began to ring.
Not halting for even a moment, she reached into her bag, hoping it was merely her mother checking in on her. But to her dismay, it was an unknown number, so she jammed the device back into her bag and decided she would not check on it again until she got home.
"… It's rude to ignore people," a disdainful voice sniffed from Scarlett's right; the words carried a distinctly Menagerien accent and felt like slime in her ears. She didn't so much jump as she lunged back, her eyes quickly searching for the source of the voice as her heart thundered in her chest. She did not struggle to spot him as a van door slid open, and he hopped out of it looking as oily as the first time she saw him.
His face was riddled with acne scars, he had cracked lips and a red nose, his eyes were bloodshot, and their original colour was hard to tell as they appeared a sickly yellow. His hair was sandy blond but so filthy that its colour was patchy at best; his oily strands clung to his soft, pale skin. As he hopped out of the vehicle, she saw he was wearing all dark clothes, their colours indistinguishable in the poor evening light, his face only visible thanks to his Scroll.
He was almost as tall as her, maybe an inch or two shorter, and his wiry frame was not innately intimidating, but it was the manic look in his eyes that genuinely put Scarlett on edge. That and the fact that he was approaching her steadily, his ratty shoes scuffing the cement as he shuffled forward warily. "I mean, I get it… you're 'the' Scarlett Arc… don't have time for some lowly Faunus?"
Scarlett swallowed quickly, "back off," she hissed, arm going into her bag to grab her pepper spray. The last thing she saw before he turned his Scroll off was the twitch of his lips as he began to rummage in his pocket, the motion making scarlet lock up.
"It's not there… got to admit I was surprised someone working for that fucker Brown didn't have a piece on them?" He sniffed, pulling her spray from his pocket before tossing it back into his still-open Van.
"Look, I don't-"
"Hup, hup, hup, none of that, Scar… you don't mind me calling you Scar, right? Look, I get it, you're shy… don't want people to see you hanging around someone like me. I got the message way back, but now! Now it's just us! We can actually talk, Scar… it will be just as it should have been, Scar, we can finally be together!" He ranted, his approach picking up as he hurriedly moved towards Scarlett, his manic eyes dancing in his head.
Scarlett was now utterly positive she should have started to carry one of her family's weapons as she found herself blocked on all sides. A chain link fence blocked the garage alley at her back, and the large dumpsters stopped her from having enough space to slip past him. She was hesitant to push him as he looked to be on something, and she did not want to risk catching some kind of septic needle in her arm.
"Listen, I just want to go home…" Scarlett explained calmly, her hands raised as she kept looking for some way out of this.
"I-I… I wanted to visit you but I remembered how shy you were about us in school, so I figured you would be the same around your sisters!" He explained with a smile that was too loopy to be sincere. "But now that we can be honest, I can't wait to meet your cute little sisters as well!"
"School?" Scarlett mumbled, her foot crushing a noisy coffee cup beneath her heel as she whipped her head from side to side. She was desperate for an escape now, but she almost let out a relieved chuckle at the sight of a door to her right.
"Yeah, scho-… You… you don't remember me…" the slimy guy spoke, his expression horrified.
Instead of replying, Scarlett lunged for the door, but her hand rattled on the handle, she gave a violent grunt and drove her shoulder into the solid wood, but it remained closed.
It was locked.
Scarlett smelt him before she saw how close he was; one of his bony hands grasped her hands as his other fisted the fabric of her top. He shoved her back into the chain link fence. A scream tried to work its way out of her throat, but it was cut off as his filthy hand clasped about her neck painfully, his broken nails digging into her flesh. He snarled wildly, his crazed face in front of hers as spit flung from his panting mouth, the filthy specks clinging to her skin.
"How! How could you not remember me? I loved you, and I know you loved me! We shared so much, Scar, the looks, the smiles, the way you brushed your hair at me! Why don't you remember me!" He raved, pressing more of his weight against her, the fence behind her shaking. Scarlett couldn't reply verbally if she wanted to, with her throat as restricted as it was, but that didn't stop her from sending a message.
The sound of blood thrumming in her skull did little to mute the satisfying sound of her knee crashing into the side of his abdomen. She was aiming lower but could not complain too much as he was driven back, cupping his hip and allowing her to breathe in much-needed oxygen. The few choked gasps she got in would have to suffice as she made to escape, her fist clenched as she rushed forward.
After all, she was an Arc, and every Arc knew how to throw a fucking punch. The feel of her knuckles crunching into the fuckers cheekbone sent a jarring ache through her fingers and wrist, but the way it sent him sprawling was more than worth it. Seeing her opportunity, she sprinted past his downed form, again grateful for her wise choice of shoes.
She was home free, out of the alley, and ready to bolt home as fast as she could, but fate was not on her side. A mass collided with her like a car going full throttle, slamming into her and throwing her body into the side of his van, her shoulder crunching painfully against the edge as she landed limply in the back. The air was knocked from her lungs, and the pain in her left arm was blinding; she was torn between trying to breathe and screaming simultaneously. She could do neither, though, as his oily form climbed atop her and his fist crashed against her jaw, sending stars into her vision.
"You bitch! You worthless fucking whore! You should have remembered me bitch, remembered what type of Faunus I fucking am! You think you can outrun me! Hah! I'm going to break your fucking legs. They won't find you until I am finished with your soft, whorish body, you fucking slut!" He screamed, his voice breaking as he rained down blows on Scarlett's form, only the training her mother had given her saved her from further injury as she protected her face and stomach, letting his blows impact painfully against more protected areas.
"I loved you! I was going to marry you! But now I'll get a fucking good time and then leave your fucked corpse on your family's doorstep! Let's see how your sist-"
He was cut off. His words stemmed with a violent choke as he was wrenched off her and sent careening back down the alley. He crashed against one of the large bins, the metal ringing from the impact, as he gave a hoarse cry of pain.
Scarlett stayed curled up but could not help but open a curious eye; what she saw would stick with her for the rest of her days.
Someone had come to her rescue.
Her teary eyes and poor light made it difficult to make them out, but from what she could tell, they appeared to be a tall male. Their footsteps were almost silent, their steps measured as they approached her stalker, who was pulling himself back to his feet.
Her stalker coughed a few times, no doubt fixing his breathing after taking such a massive blow to the back of his chest. When his breathing cleared up, he tried to speak, but his words were cut off by a meaty blow so powerful it rang out through the alley. Her rescuer had cut him off with a backhanded blow that sent him reeling.
She saw her stalker lunge at him and was surprised by his speed; her saviour was not. He sidestepped the wild attack and brought his fist down on her stalker's skull, the savage Faunus faceplanting into the cement.
Then her rescuer was on him.
He fell on him like an avalanche of blows, his fist cracking audibly in the dark against the curled-up Faunus's body. She heard him whimper and grunt, his words coming out as barks and half-baked cries silenced by the brutal collision of a fist against flesh.
A sudden shift alerted her to a change in tempo between the two, a soft clack, a grunt, a huff and then the figure atop her stalker was booted viciously off. She watched him careen into the too-dark part of the Alley, the sound of the chain link fence rattling alerting her to his location.
Her stalker was standing again; he turned to her, a pained hiss emanating from his hunched form as he began to approach. Scarlett was ashamed to admit she let slip a whimper as he came, her form locking up even as she tried to escape. Her hand grasped for a weapon finding a bottle that she clutched desperately, but her panic was for naught.
He didn't even get two steps.
The stalker was sent to his knees as the figure stomped on the back of their leg; a fist crashed against the stalker's temple, sending the sickly bastard into the alley wall. Then the stalker had his hair grabbed violently as the figure rammed their head into the wall repeatedly, each blow skull rattling in its strength.
When the stalker resisted, the figure kneed the back of his head, but as dazed as her stalker was, he was not yet unconscious and what he did next clearly stunned both her and the figure.
He jumped.
Her stalker's entire body weight slammed into the figure of her hero as they both were flung back into the alley, crashing loudly and even tipping over one of the large dumpsters. Scarlett couldn't make out much aside from the grunts of her stalker and the sounds of heavy impacts against flesh.
Despite not knowing where they were, Scarlett took the chance to scamper out of the van, eager not to be so readily confined again. She did so not a moment too soon as she heard a large crack and a muffled scream of pain.
This took a sudden turn when a body was hurled from the alley, rolling head over heels before crunching against the Van upside down; it was the stalker. His face was unrecognisable, his nose practically crumpled, and blood was gushing from his head freely. His hair was even messier, with parts torn out and filth and blood causing sections to jut out obnoxiously.
He was sobbing; Scarlett was stunned. This manic bastard who had been all over her mere moments before was now crying, leaning against his van as blood dribbled from his mouth. When he looked up, Scarlett gasped, he was missing several teeth, and his right eye was concealed by ruined flesh and caked with blood.
"S-Scarr… Help me," he gasped, rolling onto his stomach and trying to crawl into the Van, a hand outstretched, reaching for her.
A booted foot crushed the reaching hand into the floor with a wet cracking noise and a beastly growl. Scarlett was not ashamed to admit she let out an 'eep' at the sudden noise, not that it was heard over the gargled scream of her stalker. The figure twisting on the crushed limb pivoted viciously and brought his bent knee into the stalker's face once more.
Blood spray speckled Scarlett's face as she looked away from the grisly display, luckily avoiding getting any in her eyes or mouth.
Even as the sickly-looking man fell on his back, the figure didn't halt his assault. Defenceless and laid out, he grabbed one of the stalker's legs and placed it in the open van. Scarlett realised half a second early what was about to happen, and while it was enough time to close her eyes, she couldn't cover her ears.
She heard the van door rolling.
The sound of a leg breaking.
A piercing, painful scream muffled halfway through.
When she opened her eyes again, it was to the sight of the stalker choking as a boot pressed down on his throat; the van door was now almost closed, and her hero was breathing heavily, their grip on the door strong enough she heard it creak.
"P-phu-lease… I- *cough*. Sorry," the stalker choked, voice broken as he clawed at the boot on his neck.
The figure grunted in response, pressing down with more force, the stalker's eyes widening as he clawed more, even bucking his body desperately and jostling his broken leg. Scarlett watched as he went limp, his resistance stopping as he wheezed pitifully and his eyes twitched shut. Scarlett's saviour relieved some pressure, shaking him with his foot, but the stalker remained unmoving.
He looked dead.
The figure snorted, the sound confusing to Scarlett's senses as she tried to decipher the emotions behind it. When the figure turned to face her, any reason or thought fled her mind as she was confronted with terribly familiar features.
She shared a lot of them, after all.
"Jaune!"
His face was a little bloody, his lip busted, and a few spots on his face were already swelling, but otherwise, he appeared unharmed. He gave his older sister a slight smile, barely an upturn of his lips, as he dragged a bloody hand through his blond hair pushing the strands from his face and slicking his blond locks back.
"Hello, Scarlett. Are you alright?"
YVYVYVYVY
"…Scarlett, are you alright?" Jaune asked, looking at his elder sister as she stared at her hands intently. She was startled at the sound of his voice, looking up at him, her blue eyes so much like his own widening. She quickly hopped off the wall she had been leaning on and stood straight, adjusting her top and brushing off some invisible dirt.
Jaune tilted his head as she seemed to hunch ever so slightly, bringing their heights closer together as her eyes seemed to give him a once-over. Her blue orbs halted in their inspection when they landed on the objects he had grasped in his hands. "Umm, Jaune, you gave your word you weren't going to kill them…."
"I did."
"Then care to explain why you are holding an axe and a shovel?" Scarlett asked, her gaze dancing between the objects and her brother's unmoving face.
"They are not for me," Jaune answered, holding them out to Scarlett, who took a step back, startled by the offer from her younger brother.
She gulped, her nerves trembling, "Jaune, I-I don't think Tami meant for either of us to ki-"
"The axe is for your defence. Use it as you deem necessary… the shovel is for the plan," Jaune explained, gesturing with each tool.
"Oh… where did you get them?" Scarlett asked, taking the shovel, confused by what purpose it could serve in their plan.
"I borrowed it from Chester's shed," Jaune explained, leaning the axe against the school fence as he undid his tie.
"Who is Chester?" an intrigued Scarlett asked; she was surprised as it was rare for her brother to talk about anyone by their first name.
"He is the school's groundkeeper. His shed is over by the oval," Jaune explained, pointing in the general direction of the shed from which he retrieved the two tools.
Scarlett was now both confused and intrigued, "and you know the school groundskeeper, how exactly?"
"I crossed his path one afternoon when retrieving Jade from her after-school club…." Jaune explained as he began to roll his shirt sleeves up.
"…and?"
"And what?" Jaune replied, stopping on his second sleeve to look at his elder sister, who was looking at him with open curiosity.
"… Jaune, I can count on one hand the number of people who are not family that you refer to by their first name… one of them is Tami, and therefore really shouldn't count now that I think about it," Scarlett explained, crossing her arms and quirking a single brow at her confused little brother.
"Your point being?"
"What did Chester do that earned him the honour of being referred to by his first name, instead of say 'the grounds keeper'…?" Scarlett queried expectantly.
"… He takes care of homeless animals… he let Jade play with a litter of kittens he had just taken in and was keeping in his shed… Jade really liked it and said Chester is like a superhero for pets… He is a good man…." Jaune recounted taking his time with his words as he thought over what to say.
"… So, because he was nice to Jade, he gets to be called by his first name?" Scarlett chuckled.
"Jade has shown to be a fairly good judge of character," Jaune stated as an excuse as he finished rolling up his second sleeve.
"You are such a pushover," Scarlett teased as she patted her younger sibling's head.
"Let us hope not, or this will be a very short expedition," Jaune mused as he undid the top two buttons of his shirt. "Do you have any wax?"
"Wax? Why do you need wax?" Scarlett asked, befuddled.
"My hair… it might get in my way, and I need to be able to see," Jaune gestured to his fringe.
"Hmm, you might need a haircut soon… but I kind of like you with long hair, might be able to fool others into thinking you are the secret seventh sister?" Scarlett mumbled.
"Your plotting aside, Scarlett, it will not do for my vision to be obstructed…."
"… Right, here." Scarlett swiftly pulled a red hairband out of her back pocket and pulled Jaune's hair into a ponytail. Bunched up, his hair barely hung low enough to brush the nape of his neck, but it kept his eyes clear.
Jaune hummed as his sister worked; he had been set on slicking his hair back much as he had in his time in Yharnam. He could still recall how his blond hair never stayed clean for long and how over time, he had taken advantage of the inevitable build-up of filth on his form to keep his vision unobstructed.
Others had commented on how it radically changed his appearance, and others still had spoken of how he would do to get a hat. He had possessed a bloody hat, dammit. It was not his fault that every thrice-dammed monster more enormous than a horse swung with enough force to blow the useless cut of leather off.
"Jaune? You aren't having second thoughts, are you?" Scarlett suddenly enquired, worried his introspection was him wavering in his commitment.
In a rare show of emotion, Jaune looked aghast at his eldest sister, "what! No, I was merely contemplating the usefulness of hair bands… and the tedium of fashion…." Jaune spoke, mumbling the last bit.
Scarlett could do little more than widen her eyes at the insane ending to her brother's previous statement. "What do you know about fashion, Jaune? Your usual get-up has me convinced you are allergic to colour!"
"Not so loud, sister," Jaune admonished, putting a single finger to his lips that quickly ripped the wind from Scarlett's sails and had her jamming her hand over her mouth. "If you must know, sister, I am well versed in a particular form of fashion. After all, fashion's all about the soul."
"… What the fuck are you on about," Scarlett whispered.
"No time to explain, look," Jaune whispered back, his voice gaining a visceral edged as he hunched down and gestured off to a large building on the school grounds. Scarlett quickly saw what her brother was pointing to; it was a pack of kids, ten easy, maybe more, she concluded as they entered the building through the front entrance.
"Wow, they are predictable," Scarlett hissed, amazed she had been so on the money with where their prey would end up.
"Most are creatures of habit, dear sister. If one is not careful, it is far too easy to be preyed upon… as you know," Jaune mumbled, giving his sister a concerned glance as she clenched a hand around one of the fence posts.
"… That bitch Arti is a social fucking butterfly… she posts like clockwork. If she is smart, she won't change her habits to avoid drawing notice…." Scarlett explained to Jaune as she avoided making eye contact with him. Instead, she pulled her Scroll out and began to open one of the social network apps on her Scroll. Jaune honestly did not even comprehend them; they all looked the same to him.
"So, what are you looking for?" Jaune asked curiously, leaning over his sister's shoulder to view her Scroll screen.
"Confirmation she is in there as well as your other targets… Saph gave me a list, they all have Scrolls, and you will need to get all of them," She explained as she continued to scroll.
"What if they have already sent the images to other devices," Jaune hissed warningly, Scarlett gulping at the pure malice in his voice.
"… We will deal with that if it comes up, but be sure we get all of the pictures you need to get me the Scrolls… I have a friend who can find out if they were spread about and probably give us a lead on to whom they were sent if that is the case." Scarlett plotted, placing a calming hand on Jaune's arm.
"Hmm, I will retrieve the Scrolls of all present to be safe," Jaune agreed, nodding his head.
"I will leave that up to you but remember your objective is… there we go. You need to be sure to retrieve the Scrolls of these six, the others are as discussed up to your discretion, but these six… let's say they are on the list," Scarlett mused, her face adorned with a cruel smile as she showed her brother the pictures of his targets.
"… Their names?"
"First, you have Arti, her full name is Artichoke Hayes; Saph said she was the ring leader… it was her plan supposedly… she will have the pictures for sure," Scarlett explained, showing a picture of a rather lanky girl her face appearing skeletal and her skin pale. Her hair was the colour of drought-ridden soil, like the sun had bleached some of its luster and left it less.
"…. Jaune?"
"I am listening, sister," Jaune uttered, wondering how easy it would be to break such a lithe woman beneath his hand.
"No, I was just going to say that you don't need to take it easier on her because she is female… this bitch has it coming," Scarlett spat with venom.
"The guilty will be treated justly. Gender is unimportant when one is squashing vermin," Jaune snarled, for once unbothered as he heard the distant echoing of beastly howls that only he could listen to.
"… Right, anyway, the other girls are China Clay and Citron Mist; both of them are, in Saph's own words, 'cruel cunts,' so do with that information what you will… The last of the girls is… she was Saph's friend… she betrayed her," Scarlett spat, her finger pressing hard against the final female target's face.
"I recognise her… she has been to our house," Jaune snarled, the noise sounding like an enraged lion in Scarlett's ear. The girl was short, her face round, and her nose was like a button; all of this was mere background noise to her hair that was partitioned down the middle, with one side being black and the other white.
"Yes… don't kill her," Scarlett instructed. The unspoken fact that murder was the only thing she was saying not to do did not go unnoticed by Jaune.
"… I won't," Jaune acquiesced, his acceptance sounding more like a threat than an agreement.
"… her name is Orchid Praetor… the last two are both men, Pine Kit, he is fucking Arti. The other is Rust Esa… I don't know a lot about him… but he is involved, so deal with him," Scarlett finished sending their pictures to Jaune's scroll just in case.
"Understood… is there anything else?" Jaune asked as he began to take his shoes off, much to Scarlett's confusion.
"No, and what are you doing?" She asked, exasperated.
Jaune gave her a stonewall look as he removed his footwear, "unlike you ladies, I do not have an extensive selection of shoes to draw from, and these are my only school shoes. I want to keep blood off them if I can."
"Oh… I don't have that many shoes," Scarlett denied.
"Our house has four shoe closets… that father and I know of. Fun fact neither he nor I use any of them," Jaune stated as he cast off his socks and rose back to his feet.
"What? Where do you put your shoes then?"
"The shoe rack in the foyer… or the shoe cupboard next to it," he shrugged.
"… We are getting off-topic," Scarlett admonished.
"You are the one who brought it up, dear sister… it is all right that you are nervous."
"… I don't want to be. I want to be like you. This doesn't even seem to phase you," Scarlett admitted, her shoulders hunched as she looked warily at the school's gymnasium.
"I don't ever want you to be like me…." Jaune admitted a great deal of gravitas in his tone as his gaze danced to the creeping fog at the edge of his vision.
Scarlett heard his words, felt the emotion in them, and as she turned back to her brother, she saw the pleading look he gave her, his face a mirage of emotions she was unused to seeing on his usually stoic features. Taking a shaky breath, she spoke, "Jaune… you know I love you, right?"
Jaune closed his eyes, his chest rising as he took a long breath. He felt the musculature around his diaphragm shift as oxygen coursed into his blood. He had long since become used to his awareness concerning his bodily functions. He had accepted it as yet another oddity to concern himself with. When he opened his eyes, he felt his breath course over his lips, the air heavy with emotions that he sadly did not know how to process.
Aside from one that is.
"I love you too, sister," Jaune stated, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Which is why I am telling you that no matter what happens next, I need you to stick to the plan."
"Jaune?"
"I locked the back door already. When I go in, you will use the shovel to bar the door… then I need you to keep watch… and not look into the gym," he explained carefully, his tone almost hesitant for a moment before he shook off the trepidation. "The axe is not there to tempt you. It is for your protection." Jaune explained, picking the two tools back up and handing them to his sister.
"Right, but what if-"
Jaune hushed his sister by placing a finger to her lips and shaking his head, his eyes like frosty glaciers as he stared into her cerulean orbs. "Under no circumstances whatsoever are you to enter that room… when I am finished, I will knock on the door five times… then you can come in… promise me you will do this," Jaune demanded gently.
Scarlett swallowed heavily and nodded, "I promise."
Jaune smiled, a pure smile as he spoke earnestly, "thankyou sister."
"I am nervous," Scarlett admitted, the words simply bubbling up out of her stomach.
"Good, those are your nerves. They will keep you alive; heed them," Jaune explained, a look of consternation covering his face for a moment before he spoke again. "And," Jaune quickly tightened his grip on his sister's shoulders, gently lifting her so that her back straightened and her shoulders moved back. "Stand straight! You are Scarlett Arc. You are my sister… stand proud… stand strong."
Scarlett did as her brother asked, fixing her posture so that she was again taller than him, but Jaune could quickly tell that it was done halfheartedly, her figure stiff and forced. But Jaune saw the effort and said as much, "there… that is the older sister I know, proud, as she should be."
Scarlett's shoulders relaxed as she gave a shaky smile to her brother, "thanks, Jaune."
Jaune gave her a small smile of his own before his features settled like stone, his mindset shifted to that of the Hunter, and he stepped forward into the School grounds proper. "Come sister… it is time for us to revenge ourselves upon these wretched vermin," the Hunter ordered.
"Yeah, let's kick some ass," Saphron cheered quietly.
The hunter paused at this for half a second, a smile threatening to pierce his calm visage, "indeed."
YVYVYVYVY
The sound of the gymnasium door opening was not, by itself, all that strange. Even though school was finished, it was common knowledge that many kids in the athletic programs gathered there to hang out. In the room full of young athletes talking and hanging out, it was barely worthy of attention. Not even those closest to the door paid it any mind, too distracted by their basketball game.
To one Orchid Praetor, the door opening sound was not even notable enough to pull her attention away from her Scroll. She was too busy to bother sparing a glance to see which one of the athletics kids had shown up. It wasn't until the doors slammed obnoxiously that she shot a peek at the door if only to make a mental note of who the rude loser was that didn't even know how to close a door properly.
The moment her eyes landed on Arc blond hair, her Scroll was forgotten as her head whipped up, trying to see who the figure was.
They had their back to the bleachers, their hands pressed against the double doors as they continued to face away. Orchid noted that they had a male figure which annihilated any worry she felt. Even from this distance, she could tell they weren't Cloud Arc. The mountain of a man cut a terrifying figure.
Her worries abated as she relaxed in her seat, content once more now that she did not have to worry about a furious Hunter ready to tear her head off. "Oi Oreo, what's got you worked up," Arti spoke up from her position atop Pine, her legs resting on his lap as she laid back on the bleachers. "You seem jumpy," Arti commented, her knowing look carrying her unspoken warning as easily as a written letter.
"S-sorry, the door slam caught me off guard," Orchid explained, looking away from Arti as she fiddled with her Scroll in her lap.
"Hmm," Arti dismissed, looking over to the blond hanging out near the double doors with his back to the rest of the gymnasium.
"Pine is he-"
*BANG*
Arti was cut off as the figure banged on the door with a closed fist, the loud noise ringing in the gymnasium. Everyone looked over at the noise, their attention already gained by the original slam. The sound of a second, much softer bang had a wave of confusion wash over them all.
Orchid felt an icy chill run through her veins.
"Oi! Would you cut it out with the banging, dude? You made me miss my shot!" Rust barked in annoyance as he strode over to the stranger. His body quickly obscured the stranger from sight, the rest of the gym blocked from seeing anything as Rust's imposing frame blocked them out entirely.
"Look, man, I don't know who you are but can you leave? You're acting fucking weird and making everyone uncomfortable," Rust explained in a very accusatory tone as he ran his hand across his head. His buzz-cut hair looked much like his namesake as he loomed over the figure, his voice low, "can you just leave? We don't really wanna hang around freaks, y'know."
Orchid didn't know what happened next.
She didn't have a good enough line of sight, all she heard was another bang as something collided with the doors, and suddenly the gymnasium was filled with screams and shouts. When she finally moved to the stairs of the bleachers, she saw what had caused the commotion.
Rust, the tallest kid in school, was pinned to the gymnasium doors by his throat.
But that isn't what made her afraid.
A pair of blue eyes staring directly at her filled her with fear.
The cold fury in those very familiar eyes made her sprint for the back door in animalistic terror.
YVYVYVYVY
The Hunter was Jaune.
It was a part of him.
It would be more fitting to describe it as something akin to a uniform. The Hunter was still Jaune; it was just a specific part of him, a part that was born very early during his stint in Yharnam.
It wasn't a split personality, some possession or a lurking monstrosity within the confines of his tortured mind.
It was like a hat.
He could don it or cast it off as easy as breathing.
It was a voluntary state of mind, fabricated like any persona.
No different than the forced courtesy of a retail worker.
Just with a more extreme purpose.
When Jaune had developed it, he needed to be observant… but not so scrupulous that the city's horrors could worm their way into his heart.
He needed to be strict but not so rigid that he could adapt to the ever-evolving nightmares.
He needed to be pragmatic but not so mechanical that he would not offer aid.
He needed to be fierce but not monstrous.
Brave, but not foolish.
Afraid but not uncurious.
Jaune….
Jaune needed to be strong.
The Hunter was all those things.
In Yharnam, it had grown with Jaune, a suit tailor-made for him, a modus operandi, a second nature.
The Hunter was Jaune's war face.
And for the first time in a very, very long time, it was forced to adapt once again.
The Hunter had one of its targets pinned, its grip unrelenting as it applied more force to the airway of this vermin thing. Its skin was darker than his own, like the shade of faded clay, and it was rapidly getting darker as they flushed, oxygen deprivation setting in.
The Hunter knew that with more force, it could collapse its trachea, crush its airway, and maybe even break its neck.
He was weaker than he had been in Yharnam.
But not that much weaker.
But despite the many options at its disposal to cull this vile wretch, it was forced instead to pursue new options as it was forbidden from killing.
He had inflicted this restriction on himself and now was cornered into improvisation.
The vermin known as Rust was kicking now, his foot trying to push the Hunter off, kicking at his gut desperately while his hands clawed at Jaune's face.
The Hunter sniffed, yanking Rust off the door before slamming him back into it with enough force to rattle the tall teenager. The teen was taller than Jaune, by almost a full head, an impressive stature to be sure, but the Hunter had culled things that towered over buildings.
The blow had rattled the struggling teen, his flailing halting for a tick before it renewed, So the hunter repeated the action. The sound of the gym door window cracking as the teen bodily crashed against it again alerted him that he might need to change tactics.
That decision was taken from him when something bounced off the back of his head.
The Hunter had already scoped the room out, so it knew thirteen individuals were in the gymnasium. Six were targets and needed to be dealt with… non-lethally… so that Scarlett could gain their Scrolls and do what she needed.
The other seven were not involved, not directly at least. As such, Jaune was simply going to request they lend Scarlett their Scrolls so that she could examine them for the… 'contraband' before sending them on their way.
The noise of the basketball that had just impacted the back of his head bouncing away made the Hunter think that plan might not fall through.
"Let him go, you freak!" A shorter teen shouted, quickly running towards the Hunter. A second teen was behind him, and movement up in the bleachers alerted the Hunter to more possible threats.
Time to adapt.
The Hunter, as if dragging a half-empty sack, twisted about, carrying the choking Rust along until he was in line with the charging teen. When he released Rust's throat at long last, the boy was on the cusp of passing out, slumping as he heaved in desperate breaths.
A foolish choice as the hunter sent a violent kick to his chest that sent him tumbling as the air in his lungs was brutally forced out. Rust was sent backpedalling, his face shocked as he was too stunned by his sudden winded status to comprehend his motion. When he hit the other teen, he barely paid it any mind, the two collapsing into a mess of limbs on the floor.
The Hunter approached his steps even, his footing perfect as he closed in on one of his prey but was shocked when the second teen continued to charge him.
Who knew… scum could have friends.
The Hunter had no mercy for those that would interrupt its hunt and dispatched the teen with all the professional savagery that a Hunter of Yharnam was known for.
The teen threw a haymaker towards Jaune's face. It was sloppy. He put his body into it with no concern for his footing. The Hunter, ever light on his feet, glided around the over-telegraphed blow, grabbing the teen's wrist in a firm lock.
From there, it was as simple as jerking the teen forward while he lifted his arm and twisted violently. The teen let out a scream, high-pitched and agonised, as their whole arm was forced to rotate unnaturally, their body unable to follow the sudden motion. The Hunter disengaged by sending a swift cross to their jaw to daze before sending a knee into the teen's guts, hoping the blow would be sufficient to end their interference in his duty.
Their body was lifted as their abdomen suffered massive trauma that forced them to expel their lunch. The Hunter released his hold on their savaged arm, aware that he had likely broken their wrist as they fell to the floor cradling the limb as they whimpered in their puke.
The Hunter was unperturbed.
The other two teens were in the midst of trying to rush back to their feet. Rust remained on his hands and knees, trying desperately to regain control of his breathing, the other teen rushing to rise from his knees.
The Hunter put a halt to this by planting his bare foot in their chest, sending the more diminutive teen tumbling back a good few feet. Rust, for his part, looked up terrified as he realised his attacker was before him.
He was right to be afraid.
Screams were heard in the stands, shouts and warnings, cries of fear and anger.
The Hunted barely registered any of them.
Rust could do nothing but try to crawl away. His attempt to flee halted when his shirt hoisted him up, his abused throat once more burning as his collar dug into it. He tried to fight back; an elbow launched in self-defence but hit only air as the Hunter danced around the blow in a simple sway.
Rust was paid back for his attempted elbow tenfold.
The Hunter tugged him around, and Rust was forced to follow as his clothes seared against his throat until he stood across from his attacker. He did not even have time to get his guard up.
Jaune's fists were like a cannon barrage; his fist swung with hellish precision, jabs, crosses, hooks. It was a violent stream of strikes delivered in the span of seconds with the speed of an expert boxer.
For every attempt Rust made to defend or retaliate, the Hunter punished with methodical carnage.
Ribs, kidneys, throat, eyes, nose, temple, mastoid, ears… The Hunter let his blows rain as his knuckles began to turn red.
His assault was ended when the diminutive teen rushed to Rust's aid, his punches lacking, only marginally better than his now maimed ally. The Hunter had little difficulty batting his blows aside, punishing each with a lightning jab.
Soon it was a three-way medley, but this was the norm; with the numbers against him, the Hunter weaved between their blows, his footwork ensuring that the two teens were always an obstacle for each other.
All the while, his own punches were spoiled for choice, landing frequently and fiercely.
The blows swiftly added up.
Both teens were bloody now.
The only blood on Jaune was on his knuckles.
He was forced to retreat by the arrival of further support for the two.
The first to arrive came in swinging with a baseball bat. He was fit, strong-jawed, with light stubble and a thick curly black cut, so the sides of his head were visible.
It was Pine, ready and armed alongside the only two other males in the gym, who came to their friend's rescue. The Hunter saw the reinforcements and stretched his fingers.
He would have to tend to his knuckles after this.
"We are going to fuck you up!" Pine blustered, his bat held aloft as if he was ready for a fastball.
His fellows could have been twins, both were large, not tall, but broad, and they moved well, thick burly arms and were well on their way to being solid walls of flesh. They engaged first, moving with a degree of synchronicity that was indicative of training.
Their forms were not awful, either.
Their swings were slow, but their footwork kept them from being too exploitable. Where Rust and his diminutive friend had been in each other's way, these two moved in synch, trying to box the Hunter in.
There was a brief flash of movement behind them, and Pine's bat swung in his direction.
That was the first blow they landed on him.
He caught the bat on his arm, much to his prey's surprise though he did not so much as flinch.
Surprise, he readily took advantage of.
His guard shifted, and the bat was in his grasp, tugging Pine in, his legs stumbling forward, Jaune's fist putting his movement to a stop. His knuckles crunched beautifully into cartilage as Pine's nose bent beneath the force.
Credit to the twins; he could only get one blow in before they were moving again. A shoulder hooked his side as he was forced to release the bat. He pivoted into the tackle, his elbow following the arc of his spin into their head; their pained grunt was deep as he repeated the act thrice more. When he slowed, the Hunter pivoted again, building momentum to throw the heftier boy.
He was sent spinning, his body mushing into the soft protector around the basketball hoop as he cradled his head. Jaune's leg found purchase on the side of his knee, pushing the joint in painfully and bringing the boy down to the floor. His follow-up knee strike was blocked, and the teen swung to catch Jaune in the hip and shunt him back.
That Hunter reassessed and attacked once more.
With the twin's front defended, the Hunter went for the rear. With the boy forced to a knee, his leg was exposed and vulnerable.
The audible crack as his heel stomped down the parting bone was almost covered entirely as the boy and his twin let out hollers, one of agony and the other worry. But the Hunter didn't stop there. With his leg destroyed and his focus annihilated by pain, he got his arm around the teen's neck and shoved his shoulder between his scapulae.
Then he heaved with all Jaune's strength.
The twin was pulled up and over Jaune's shoulder, the boy rising as he lifted with legs, his arms sliding as he adjusted his grip until he lurched forward. The large boy arced in the air, his legs flailing until Jaune pulled him down with the aid of gravity.
There was a vast meaty thump as his body crashed into the floor, his broken leg crumpled beneath him, and his eyes widened as pain shot through his body like arcs of white-hot lightning. His last sight as his world went dark was of the Hunter rushing past his downed form, eager to engage the other teens.
Two down, four to go.
The other large boy moves first; angry and foolish, he leads his attacks, and the Hunter blocks his heavy blows, catching them on his arms. They hurt almost as much as the bat did. He uses the melee to get into his guard. An uppercut from Jaune dazes as he presses in, a knee that impacts his hip, two japs to the diagram, a foot behind his opponent's heel and a shoulder check to finish.
The big boy trips and goes down, rattled and aching. The Hunter presses on, eager to reach his actual prey.
Pine steps in next, his face a bloody mess as anger in his eyes beg for revenge and something in the Hunter cheers.
His bat swings are pronounced and avoided easily, but the Hunter struggles to find a clean opening… so it settles for a messy one.
The bat cracks against his palm and Pine pales; the Hunter drives his forehead into the vermin before him, listening to the satisfying crunch of his nose with pride, the already broken organ spurting blood onto the Hunter readily.
Teary-eyed and no doubt seeing stars Pine has no hopes of stopping further punishment, so the Hunter capitalises. He drives his forehead into his face twice over until his face is flecked with Pine's sanguine spray. When he releases his hold of the boy, Pine slumps to the floor listlessly.
Pine is kneeling limply, his face a bloody mess and his eyes unfocused.
The Hunter raises the bat back, determined to leave the thing before him suffering until it can be blessed with an execution. When he swings the wooden implement, it is not met with the smack of halting flesh but the crack of bone giving beneath a most brutal force. Pine goes down, unmoving, his jaw a fractured mess, teeth spilling across the wood as blood pools out of his open orifice.
Three down.
Rust and his diminutive ally back away, fear ripe on their expressions; the Hunter watches as those expressions change to engagement, acknowledgement, and hope.
When the meaty fist of the unbroken twin sails over his head, he watches as that hope dies.
He whips around the bat, cracking into an unexpecting knee; as he rises, he aims for the ribs; he stabs into their gut, shunting the large twin back before bringing the bat down across his shoulder. The large boy gives a grunting scream as his clavicle breaks, and he paws at it in agony as he flees backwards.
The Hunter lunges, the wooden bat scoring blow after blow, his diaphragm first, then his other knee, elbow, and jaw. He goes down in a spin, blood spraying as his teeth shred his lips, and he falls, groaning.
One last strike for good measure.
The boy screams anew as his scapula fractures from the last blow of the bat.
He writhes on the floor, sobbing in pain as he tries to move neither arm.
The Hunter isn't even breathing heavily as he turns to see a terrified pair. Rust and his shorter friend are looking at him with eyes aghast at his propensity for violence. Both are backing away; their words are hollow and mean nothing, their pleading is met with indifference, and Rust tries to flee.
He pushes the short one at the approaching Arc.
He goes down, cradling a broken humerus as he is batted aside.
Rust makes it two steps before his feet are swiped out from beneath him as the Hunter takes his legs out with the bat.
He is airborne, his body falling back.
His eyes see the cold fury in the blue ones that regard him as nothing more than something to be squashed.
A hand wraps around his face.
His head is driven to the floor, his brain rattling around in his skull, and his world goes black.
Jaune rises, his body bearing the blood of those he just crushed, as he looks to the teenage boys, ensuring all of them are still disabled. Not one of them is standing; those that are conscious are wishing they weren't and remain down, cradling crippled limbs.
The rest of the teenagers have boxed themselves in at the back of the gym, near the back doors; no doubt all of them had tried to escape but found the door unyielding.
Four of them are his targets; the other three are terrified and do not look as if they are likely to try and hinder his hunt. Jaune approaches steadily until he is but a few meters away, his eyes locked on a fearful Artichoke Hayes.
He desires to see her bleed.
His forward march is halted when one girl pushes to the front; he recognises her as yet another one of his targets.
China Clay.
She holds in her hand her Scroll, Jaune's reason for being here.
"Take one more step, and Saphron will be the newest starlet to grace every boy's spank bank before you can even raise that bat!" She warned a picture displayed upon her Scroll of Jaune's sister trying her best to cover her chest as two sets of distinctly male hands held her up.
Jaune was not sure what the girl expected his response to be.
"… I am going to shatter your fingers…" he spoke simply.
China paled, and fear seemed to slither its way into her expression before it was stomped out futilely by blusterous fury as China sneered viciously. "Ha-ha fuck you, pall! Hope your sister enjoys her new stardom!"
Without even a breath of hesitation, she pressed the share button.
And a loading wheel appeared.
It spun.
And spun.
And kept spinning.
The Hunter watched her eyes widen, watched as she paled, watched her eyes look to his; the worry in them solidified into outright terror.
The Hunter was a professional, work and duty done with diligence and efficiency.
Jaune Arc was a brother who was incensed beyond mere mortal means.
Jaune Arc, the Hunter, the survivor of the Eternal Night, took a step forward.
"W-wait, look, I was afraid you're a big guy; you get that I was just sc-"
Jaune tapped his weapon against the floor, his bat's staccato tap silencing the pleading girl as her throat closed.
Another step.
She finds her voice pleading, trying to backpedal, the girls behind her not letting her as they huddle together.
The bat taps again upon the floor; he sees her legs shake.
One more step.
He raises his bloody bat.
She screams.
Another voice joins hers.
"JAUNE!"
A.N.
Merry Christmas and hello.
Behold me, my generosity, my gift to you one and all, not one fight scene…
BUT TWO…
Yeah, I wanted to cover a lot in this chapter, but fight scenes can be… consuming, so I figured the best method to covey the plot is to integrate two fight scenes, as both have plot relevance for different reasons.
So Jaune and Scarlett have a plan, and it is in motion; the question now is, what else does this plan entail? Stick around to find out.
I tried my best to show the business side of Jaune, the Hunter side, how his mind operates in that detached manner as his focus is given to the goal at hand. As stated previously, Jaune is quite skilled at compartmentalisation and has no trouble putting everything else on the back burner to pursue a single objective.
But yeah, also, the Crossbows in this are again from Warframe, I really like a lot of the weapon designs from that game, but I will probably include some from other games as well because I want to.
I'm happy I could get this out this month. Feels good to pop another chapter before the end of the year.
Also, to my Patrons, if you wonderful folks hop on over to that dreaded website that ffnet dislikes, you will find the next chapter ready and waiting for your enjoyment.
My gift to you fine folk whose support means the world to me, Merry Christmas.
Remember, if you find yourself really, really, really liking my writing and want to show some financial support, I'm AceReaper on Pat re on, the same icon as my FF account.
Merry Christmas.
And as always.
Until next time.