Here we go.

Cover Art: Kirire

Chapter 61

The cleanup of Tomorrow's News was genuinely both more agonising, and more time consuming, than any other anomaly they'd had to deal with it – and that included the time it usually took them to hunt the anomaly down. The first and easiest step was getting Lisa Lavender's television, or maybe it was Lisa herself now, disconnecting it from the network and transporting it out the city.

Terra met them to take it off their hands, and Blake was glad it wasn't Saphron or Pyrrha because she wasn't sure she could have dealt with them at that moment. Either way, she assured them that the anomaly was going to be taken to a site far away from any town or city, where Arc Corp could station employees to watch the news and report on it to whichever office it applied to.

Lisa had gone mad because she couldn't stand the fact she wouldn't be as popular on the late-night slot, and now her entire existence was going to be telling the news to a small team of three to four researchers. Her viewership had descended even further, and she wondered if Lisa knew that, or if it would even be kinder if she remained ignorant.

In an ideal world, they could have left it there and called it job done.

Remnant was not an ideal world.

To start, they had a full squad of Atlas Specialists that the kingdom itself, and General Ironwood, was disavowing. That was made difficult for him since their faces and names could be matched to ID as former Atlas Specialists, but he continued to say they'd acted without orders and gone rogue. What didn't help was the team claiming complete ignorance. At first, she thought they were playing dumb, but Blake and Jaune soon realised that not only did they not know their reasons for being in Vale, but they didn't know their own names, their pasts, or anything.

It was like their memories had been wiped clean, and she couldn't help but think that the thing which called itself Neo was to blame. Whatever they had seen, whatever they had experienced, their minds had seemingly decided the only way to survive would be to purge everything. Or it had been so inhuman and so horrifying that their brains reset.

Jaune had taken pity on them – and they were very pitiable, almost like children – and asked the Council of Vale to take them in and try to look after them. They were going to be taught the necessary skills to join the local police force, and the hope was that the similarity to their previous lives might jog some memories.

Blake didn't hold out any hope.

That still left a whole host of shit for them to clean up, too. The traffic accident Lisa predicted hadn't come true thanks to the road closing, and it was a miracle and a half, but the gang fight hadn't either. They'd been spooked into calling it off. Still, everyone and their dog knew about Tomorrow's News, and they knew about ARC Corp as well. Or, at least, they knew it was a shadowy government organisation. Jaune had practically been digging a hole in the floor with his pacing, trying to figure out how to fix everything.

This was just too widespread. The broadcast itself was limited to Vale, but people had taken recordings, and it was all over the internet. It was going global, and it was so bad that even the other offices had called to say that "resources were available" if the Containment Office needed them to suppress it. Cooperation between the offices always felt like the first sign of the apocalypse to Blake.

But, in the end, Jaune had come up with something.

Or, rather, he took inspiration from elsewhere.

And what followed was the hardest week of Blake's life.

/-/

"And, on unrelated news," said radio in Jaune's office. "-reviews are in for the movie Tomorrow's News, and critics are in agreement that it may just be the worst movie ever filmed. With current scores hovering at 1-star by critics, and 5/100 online via public rankings, Tomorrow's News has the dubious honour of being the lowest-rated movie of all time on popular movie ranking site, Fresh Avocados."

"The movie, which sees a duo of detectives from a shadowy organisation race to hunt down a rogue news broadcaster capable of predicting the future, saw Lisa Lavender in a starring role, alongside newcomers to the scene, Blake Belladonna and Jaune Arc. Despite a catching premise, and a marketing campaign in advance that saw much of Vale abuzz with interest, the movie flopped at the box office – with some critics saying that the acting was some of the worst they have ever seen on screen. Lisa Lavender has retired from the public eye in the outcry, while the other lead actors have refused to comment."

"An online petition to never allow either of the two leads to act again has reached 500,000 signatures, and although movie directors say such a feat could not possibly be enforced, all agreed that casting the duo would be akin to financial suicide."

Blake slapped her hand down on the thing to shut it up, took a deep breath, pushed her face into the cushion of Jaune's small sofa, and screamed. When a text came through from her mom saying she and Ghira thought the movie was "wonderful" and that they'd even had a live screening on a projector on the beach back home, Blake screamed for a second time. There was no way she could step foot in Menagerie again. The White Fang wanting her dead was one thing, but the sheer humiliation of her short acting career would haunt her to the end of her days.

"It's not that bad," said Jaune.

"Are you kidding me!?" she hissed. "The movie is awful!"

"Oh, yeah, the movie is pure trash – and we sucked as actors." He laughed. LAUGHED! Blake had an urge to wring his neck. "But it did its job. The world is so busy laughing at us for some of the worst acting they've ever seen, not to mention a terrible plot, that they're not asking what happened with the broadcasts, or where Lisa Lavender has gone."

"It could have been a good film, though. If we'd had more time to practice or you let us have more than a week to produce it."

"The point wasn't to make a good film. The point was to cover our tracks."

"But we're ranked as the worst actors ever!"

"Yep." He grinned at her. "Great, isn't it?"

"I will literally strangle you."

"Oh, calm down. We don't need the money and if it was a hit then we'd have people asking us to star in more. Besides, some people really like it. They're saying it's the ultimate example of a movie that's so bad it's good."

"That's not a positive!"

He just laughed to himself, which only upset her even further. The worst was when she went down for breakfast at her favourite diner and people alternated between asking her for autographs and taking videos of her on their scrolls. There'd been an uptick in customers as a result. It turned out that being a mediocre actor didn't get you much recognition, but being one of the worst in history somehow earned you as much as being the best. People had stopped her and asked for selfies.

Jaune fed off the attention like the emotional mess he was, never once realising they were taking the piss out of him. Or maybe he did notice and didn't care. It was always hard to tell with Jaune. The day wasn't made any better when, instead of someone knocking on the door, it opened and an asshole she recognised stuck his head in. "Is that evil spider-monster of yours locked away?"

"Blake, wake Timothy up. We have a stupid bird stuck in the office."

"Ha, fucking ha," snarled Qrow, and grabbed Blake's arm when she went to actually do it. "Don't. I'm here on business. Proper business. Your business, in fact. Ozpin sent me."

"Even less reason for me to care but continue."

"A huntsman was sent to check on a village that went dark. He came back talking of a strange Grimm made of red string, like a walking body of human veins and arteries. He was badly injured, bleeding, and he died within six hours of his report." Qrow forced out a mighty puff of air. "Then, within thirty minutes, his body started moving again as if something was writhing inside and trying to get out."

Jaune's laptop clicked shut. "Fuck. Tell me you incinerated him."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Him and three people working in the morgue who were killed by him. Or it."

Qrow tossed down a few still photos on Jaune's desk. Blake peeked over to look, but quickly wished she hadn't. It was a man's body torn open, as if something had burst from his chest. The movies made it look a lot nicer than it was, because the hole was horrifically large, stretching from his neck to his groin.

"This is the vampire thing, isn't it?" asked Blake.

"Blood that Feeds," replied Jaune, nodding. "And it sounds like it for sure. Good lord." He sat back. "How far out is this village? How long ago was it hit? Has anyone gone there since?"

"About half a day out, about two days before we got wind and sent someone, and no. Ozpin locked the issue down and sent me to talk to you. Said I should give you all the details and let you handle it. And quite frankly, I'm more than happy to do just that. The more I learn of your twisted world, the less I like it."

"It's your word as well," said Blake. "You're just ignorant."

"And I like being ignorant, thank you very much." Qrow eyed her strangely, then said, "Nice movie by the way."

Blake's eyes narrowed. "Fuck you."

"Hey, I actually thought it was pretty good."

"That makes it even worse."

"Tch. Rude." Qrow rolled his eyes and looked back to Jaune. "So, this… thing. I trust you guys can deal with it, right? There isn't going to be more deaths?"

"It depends how far it's got," said Jaune. "There's a good chance it will have moved on by now. They can sense blood, you see. There's no way to hide from them. It. Them. I hope it's just the one, but you've seen yourself how they can spread. There could be more now. The only good thing is that they always move toward the closest source of blood, so if there are multiple then they'll have gone in the same direction rather than spread out. They hunt animals, too, so that might delay them." Jaune tapped his fingers on his desk. "We could use help."

Qrow blanched. "No. No way."

"Okay. Then we'll ask Ruby."

"No-" He groaned. "Fuck. Don't do that. Not Ruby."

"Then we'll need someone, Qrow. Blood that Feeds is dangerous, and it infects via blood. I don't have aura. I can't have aura. Blake can do a good job keeping them off me, but she's one person – and she isn't even an official huntress." Jaune laid his hands, and his proverbial cards, upon the table. "We'll need at least one huntsman or huntress." His smile grew. "One who knows about anomalies."

Qrow Branwen let out a strained noise.

Blake liked it.

/-/

The Bullhead rattled lightly as it flew over the thick forests of Vale's hinterlands, alongside the widest river in the country that snaked from the east coast inland. Blake was sat in the hangar in her suit, head resting back, oddly relaxed. Jaune was opposite her, talking calmly and explaining the mannerisms of the anomaly, Blood that Feeds.

Qrow was a wreck to her left, fidgeting with his fingers and wincing every few words.

"Blood that Feeds is a bloodborne anomalous contagion that constantly requires more blood to feed itself. We do not use the word sustain because it can seemingly exist indefinitely without blood, but, when it does, it becomes sluggish and erratic, entering a state of torpor. We do not know the origin of the anomaly but believe it one that has existed for many hundreds of years. It is one of the most dangerous anomalies ARC Corp faces, but, ironically, it is also one that has little chance of becoming a Reality Class anomaly. That is because whenever it appears, it inevitably kills all witnesses before moving on."

"Fucking hell…" whispered Qrow.

"It's not that different to Grimm," said Blake. "Calm down."

"You didn't see what I saw in that morgue!"

"Comparing it to Grimm isn't a bad idea," said Jaune. "It's mindlessly aggressive, can only fight in melee, and hunts people down via a method that cannot be controlled. You could say it has Grimm mannerisms. The only difference is that it is a feeding anomaly, so it will stop to feed on whomever it kills, which Grimm won't do."

"Question." Blake raised a hand. "If it feeds on blood then how does it replicate?"

"Good question. Replication does not normally happen because, as you said, it finishes off all the blood it hunts. Usually, it only causes other instances of itself if a victim somehow survives after being infected by it, or if its feeding is disturbed in some way. An example might be if it started feeding on someone, and a family member attacked it, causing it to abandon its first meal and attack them. The first victim might have time to become another instance of Blood that Feeds, but it depends on the time. Cadavers can become another instance within 60 minutes, whereas living people usually take a couple of hours, depending on their health, immune system and body mass, etc. Mercifully, the living hosts die of the infection before Blood that Feeds takes over – though I doubt it's a painless death."

Qrow whined again.

Blake was more used to it all, and quickly found a weakness, "So, the first thing is that we shouldn't actually interrupt it feeding, right?"

"That's right. It might be tempting to attack while it's distracted, and you'll want to when you see it, but the worst thing we can do is lead it on a merry chase where it attacks several people and can't eat any of them. Some of the worst outbreaks in history have been when huntsmen intervened. They couldn't have known, but by drawing it into a fight and causing more people to become infected, they turned one instance of the anomaly into twenty, and caused the loss of a whole town. That happened in Vacuo."

Blake blinked. "The Great Plague of Sarennis?"

"That's the one. Or that was the cover story. What actually helped solve that was a sandstorm coming out the desert, and a brave soul leading them into it – sacrificing himself so they'd be torn asunder by the winds, even as they, themselves, were. They weren't ARC Corp, either. Just a local who did the right thing at the right time. ARC Corp gave him a posthumous medal of honour and paid out a pension to his surviving family who weren't there when it happened as if he'd been one of our own."

The story reminded her that ARC Corp hadn't always existed, and that people had survived despite all these terrifying anomalies in the world. The organisation made things easier, and protected places well, but back in the past it had been up to brave warriors, or normal men and women drawing the monsters away so their family could escape. There were so many old myths and folklore that could very well be true, and a lot of them told of canny hunters outsmarting beasts, or children escaping monsters through childish wit.

All of them might very well have happened just that way.

How had they done it? Blake didn't know, but then she also didn't understand how people had survived the Grimm back before proper metallurgy or understanding of dust. It still blew her mind that humanity had somehow survived with nothing but rock spears and wooden bows and arrows, against the same monsters that modern people died to.

"Anything else we should know?" asked Blake.

"The most important thing is that you cannot let yourself be wounded by Blood that Feeds. That's how it gets you – blood in your blood. There is a chance I will be immune to that. I'm not planning to test it. You shouldn't test it, either. It's been shown that it can affect people who have aura, but that's only if it gets through it or you don't have it up in time."

"How do we kill them?"

"Fire works best, hence why I'm still useful, but you could also use bladed weapons. It's… The blood cannot move on its own, but what it does is rush through the blood vessels of the human body and animate them. Sort of. Think of air being blown through a tube, and how the tube can flail about. It's a similar principle. If you cut the arm off the creature, it can't make a new one, but that spilled blood is still dangerous. If an animal ingests it, and is then hunted and eaten by a human, then the anomaly finds new hosts. We need to burn any blood that falls. Honestly, it's likely we'll be burning down whatever village it's in."

"And the locals?"

"We evacuate them if we can, but we obviously separate any injured and keep them quarantined. Maybe they hurt themselves in the escape and they're fine, but we don't take risks." Jaune sighed. "But, in all honesty, I wouldn't hold out much hope that we find any. If we catch it outside a village then there'll be no victims, and inside will probably mean everyone is dead."

"I can't believe I'm here!" hissed Qrow.

"Blake Ozpin," said Blake. "He's the one who agreed. Or blame yourself for being so loyal to him that you'll throw aside all common sense."

"You sound like my sister," he snapped at her.

"Then your sister sounds smart."

"My sister is a bitch!"

"Must run in the family."

They touched down not too much later, in the ruins of the village the other huntsman had visited. There was little left beyond corpses, and those corpses had shrivelled up, as dry as parchment, with limbs collapsed and faces sunken. It was a horrible sight, and yet Blake somehow found it sadder to see the animals, who had just been minding their own business, strewn about and drained as well. It was a good thing they'd left Timothy, because she couldn't stand the thought of him dying to this monstrosity.

"Spread out," said Jaune.

"Are you insane!?" howled Qrow.

"The anomaly isn't here. We landed and didn't get attacked. It's long gone and we need to find in which direction so we can track it. Remember, this thing finished here and left in search of more blood. They don't stick around in any one spot."

Blake had already begun walking away while Qrow argued. To her, it made sense to look around, and assuming their knowledge was correct, there was simply no chance it could still be in the village. Sure enough, she walked to the perimeter without any threat, and began checking the nearby woods. Tracks might be hard to find, but a blood trail or a killed and drained animal carcass would be much easier.

In the end, it was Qrow that found it.

Not the anomaly, and not a carcass, but a bloody swathe cut through some bushes, with splashes of blood on the bark of a tree. There was a perfectly serviceable dirt road not ten metres to the left, yet the thing had just walked straight into the forest like it didn't care. More likely, it couldn't see the road. Blood can't have eyes, can it? Well, they could if it was anomalous…

Blake almost wished the voice of her own mind whispering the answers to her. Almost. Jaune's lip had taken three full days to heal, and she was still terrified he might ask why she'd taken a chunk from it in a kiss forced upon him. He hadn't. It was the first time she'd ever been thankful for Jaune's non-confrontational attitude. He'd seemingly decided it was better to ignore it and pretend it never happened, and that was a-okay with her.

"The path heads south," said Jaune. "Let's get back in the Bullhead and follow it."

It felt much safer back in the aircraft as it took off, moving slowly toward the south on as low an engine speed as it could manage. Much of it was time spent hovering, while Jaune, Qrow and her peered out the open door and tried to keep track of where it had gone. It was difficult at times, with tree coverage getting worse, and more than once they had to stop and have Qrow leap out to double-check. He would fly back up as a small bird, and Jaune acted like it was a totally normal thing, so Blake shrugged it off. The pilot was in ARC Corp employ and had seen far, far worse. At least this little bird wasn't devouring people whole, or pecking out people's eyes, or causing hallucinations that made people's heads blow up.

Their path was a jerky and confused one. The anomaly had moved from animal to animal, and sometimes that meant it doubled back on itself when some wildlife started fleeing from it. South, west, south, north, east, north, west, south. It was a back and forth mess of zigging and zagging patterns that made no sense, as befitted a mindless creature of blood.

"This is normal," said Jaune, when they started to get annoyed. "Trust me, most times we run into Blood that Feeds, it's just meandering in a forest going after everything that lives. We've even found them climbing trees to get to owl chicks or digging in the dirt in search of moles underground. They don't care what it is they're looking for. They just keep going, tirelessly."

"Is it always like this?" Qrow asked her.

"Not even remotely," she replied. "This time, we know what it is we're looking for. Normally, it's going to a place where crazy things are happening and hoping we don't end up swallowed or killed by it before we can figure out what's going on."

Qrow made a strangled sound. "How are you still alive?"

"Spite."

They carried on, making several more stops, before they spotted rising smoke from a village in the distance. Normal smoke, not an inferno, thankfully, but still a bad sign. The beast wasn't necessarily headed their way, but the closer it came, the higher a chance it'd suddenly find them the closest blood-filled objects.

"Take us there!" ordered Jaune. "Hopefully, we can reach it before it does, if it hasn't already…"

They flew over quickly and hovered above the centre of the village. There was no one below, no movement, and Blake couldn't help but think someone would have come outside to take a look at the aircraft above them. Curious kids, at least.

There was nothing. Not even a door opening.

"I don't like this," said Qrow. "It's too quiet."

"Everyone is dead." Jaune said it factually, as if it were a foregone conclusion. "It got here before us. We might not have even had a chance to stop it." He banged a hand on the wall. "Land us down, but then take off and hover above the village. Don't touch down unless we call for you."

The Bullhead slowly dipped in response, bringing them in for what probably counted as a hot landing. It stopped at a hover, two feet above the ground, and they leapt out and thudded onto the lightly cobbled road. Jaune slapped his hand back against the hull, and the aircraft slowly ascended once more, leaving them behind. It was for the best. Better they have a safe escape route then leave it landed and come back to find their pilot eaten. Blood that Feeds wasn't supposed to be capable of ranged attacks, lacking eyesight among many other things, so short of a Nevermore knocking it down, it would be safe in the air.

"Please tell me we're not splitting up here," said Qrow.

"No. I only did it in the last place since there was literally no chance it would still be around. It could be here. It would take… time to feed off everything." Jaune grimaced. "And they often get disturbed, so it's not uncommon for them to kill everything first and then take to feeding once there's nothing left to set it off."

Anyone would try and save a family member caught by such a thing. Even if they couldn't harm it, an attack might be enough to set it into a killing frenzy. Blake drew Gambol Shroud, her cartridges already exclusively filled with flame dust rounds. Jaune's brief ahead of time on that had made sure she had what she needed.

He might very well be immune thanks to his anomalous nature, but she didn't want to risk it, so she decided to be the one taking point. Qrow took the back and was happy with it. Blake led them down the road, crossing over onto another made of dirt and scanning left and right. For there to be no one outside, even dead bodies, seemed off. Surely some of them would have tried to run and been cut down, but everything was cleaned away. It was suspicious. Blake shared the concern, and Jaune hummed.

"Blood that Feeds doesn't normally move bodies, but it's possible the victims moved themselves. If they saw it coming then they might have thought it was a Grimm and holed up somewhere for safety. Most villages have a gathering spot for Grimm attacks, don't they?" The question was aimed at Qrow, and the huntsman grunted his response.

"Yeah, they do. Usually, it's an easily defended building. If they're lucky, it'll be basements of a bunker underground, but not everyone is so fortunate. The biggest building is most likely. Somewhere they could fit all their people."

Blake searched for it, and quickly found a big storage building toward the back of the village. It was likely where they'd kept their food and drink, crops harvested and the likes, which might have made it a good place to hold up because they'd have food aplenty. When they drew near, Blake stopped. There was a wide trail of blood just outside the door, leading to it.

And the large, wooden door was ajar.

"Slowly," whispered Jaune. "And stay quiet."

Blake had to be the first in. She had aura, night-vision, and a Semblance that could let her leave decoys to distract. Fire-based decoys too, which could explode. There was no questioning she was the right person. She took one quick breath to fortify herself and then stepped forward. This was no different than any other anomaly she'd faced, and she'd been in the Twilight City. She'd survived it.

This was nothing.

Stepping inside, the first thing that hit her was the stench. Blood, urine, and death. It had its own smell, which she couldn't quite place other than a horrifying wrongness. Blake crept into the entranceway and motioned for them to come in behind her, keeping herself low. It was light enough inside for them to see easily thanks to open shutters on the ceiling. The metal corrugated roof had clear plastic windows, too. Though she was sure Jaune and Qrow would have appreciated not being able to see.

The villagers had retreated to the warehouse to hold out, but that hadn't managed that. The dead were everywhere, slumped and strewn about covering the floor in a thick carpet of bodies. And there, atop one, was a thing that defied all logic.

It was like a human if a human's skin, muscles, bone and organs had become transparent. The veins and arteries floated in the air, in the vaguest shape of a humanoid creature with two arms, two legs, and a head. Of sorts. The head was little more than tubes pointing upward, or, in this case, downward, into the body of someone it was feeding on. The thing was crouched over them like an animal, but low, blood vessels brushing against clothing as it slurped up the juices of its victim. The veins throbbed and pulsed, swelling thickly as it took on mass. Blake didn't understand how they weren't bursting, as the human blood system wasn't designed to be able to take on that much blood. It should have ruptured.

Jaune let out a shaky breath and spoke quietly. "Let it feed," he whispered. "Don't disturb it. We'll deal with it afterwards."

Blake wanted to kill it now, she really did, but she understood his reasoning. There were no survivors either. Not a single sound. Not a single animal moving. It had killed everything. Every single thing in the village, from the oldest adult to the youngest child, and to pets as well. It truly was a horrific thing. Blake slowly readied her weapon, for after, and Qrow did the same.

As he did, his weapon spat out a screw. Blake wasn't sure how. A malfunction-? Either way, she, Jaune, and Qrow, watched in abject horror as the black object cartwheeled through the air. Had she been thinking, she might have caught it, but she was too stunned to act. It landed, not on the soft ground, nor on concrete, but on the top of a metal bucket used for milking cows.

CLANG!

Silence.

For a moment.

The monstrosity raised its head up from its meal as if sniffing the air, and, to Blake's horror, more shapes stirred. Two, three, four, five, six – all red, string-like creatures of artery and vein, poking up from their meals to take in the interlopers.

"Did I mention my Semblance to you guys?" hissed Qrow. "It's bad luck."

"…" Jaune couldn't find the right words.

Blake could.

"I fucking hate you, Qrow Branwen."

The blood-fuelled monsters surged towards them.

Damn it, Qrow. But hey, you get to be a vampire hunter. We've had werewolves, and now we just need little green men to complete the set.

Next Chapter: 17th July

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