RWBY Noir

by Wombag1786

"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its content." In 1919, the world has seen the horrors of the great war come to an end, yet forces behind the vale of sanity work and worm into the booming new world. Thankfully, humanity will not be alone in this madness. Though Madness, may prove to be a Blessing then Sanity.

5. The Vaquera

I don't own RWBY or Call of Cthulu.

AN: Special thanks to Project Ray: for Spanish translation. (Please support his story's "Remnant only needs one Snake" and "Operation: Darkest Night.")

CommanderCheat82: For Australian dialogue and region environment. (Please support his story "RvB: The beacon Chronicles.")

Please note Spanish isn't my first langue but Project Ray gave it his approval. Sorry if their were any mistakes in translation.

In the Great Sandy Desert of Australia, south of Fitzroy Crossing in Kimberley Region. April 30th 1921. Late at night

3rd POV

The view pulls down on a lone Australian Six driving silently through the night. The full moon was slowly descending, the view shines down on the driver. She was beginning to show her age, A few wrinkles on her tan skin, strips of grey in her long blonde braided hair, and harden blue eyes of someone who has seen all forms of good an evil. Her clothes were a little un-lady like, but then again. She didn't give a dam for clothes in youth. So why start now? She wore a simple white dress shirt that button up half way. Over it was a tan leather vest that was left unbuttoned. This all neatly tucked into her Khaki pants. That in turn tucked into tan Cowboy boots. Around her neck was an old blue bandanna from her outlaw days. Perched on her head was a white Stetson with a snake leather wrapped around the base. As she drives, she couldn't help but look back in the rear-view window. Sitting in the back was a young man with ebony hair, and a pair of round glasses slowly falling off. He was wearing a red and gold trimming academic attire with a pair grey knickerbocker. On his right side of his sweater vest was a University of Sydney crest.

As he silently snores, the folder in his hands slowly begin to fall. It wasn't till the car bumped on a rock did it finally fell onto the ground. As it did photos begin to fall out onto the ground. One Photo was of the women riding in her younger days. In it, she was holding a Lemat revolver over a corpse of a Texas ranger. The woman then Monologued in Spanish.

"Me llamo Fausta Bell. Puede que hoy no parezca mucho; pero una vez fui una de las mujeres más temidas del suroeste. Para contar esta historia, supongo que debería dar un pequeño contexto a mi ascenso y caída."

(My name is Fausta Bell. It may not seem like much today; but once I was one of the most feared women in the southwest. To tell this story, I suppose I should give a little context to my rise and fall.) As she narrates, the view shifts over to a photo of a young man in a confederate uniform.

"Mi padre, Travis Bell fue un cabo en el 23º Voluntarios de Alabama durante la guerra de agresión del norte. Luchó en la batalla con mi tío, Maxwell Webber en Chickasaw Bayou, Port Gibson, Champion's Hill, Big Black River Bridge y Vicksburg. Cuando terminó la guerra, él y algunos otros soldados se convirtieron en parte de la pandilla de los Texas Raiders que lucha contra el gobierno yanqui. Un día, en 1872, después de que la mayoría de su pandilla fuera asesinada a las afueras de Amarillo, se encontraron con la pandilla Perro loco. Múltiples delincuentes de México que estaban siendo cazados por su propio gobierno. Fue durante una escaramuza que mis padres se conocieron."

(My father Travis Bell was a corporal in the 23rd Alabama Volunteers during the War of Northern Aggression. He fought in battle with my uncle, Maxwell Webber at Chickasaw Bayou, Port Gibson, Champion's Hill, Big Black River Bridge, and Vicksburg. When the war ended, he and a few other soldiers became part of the Texas Raiders gang fighting the Yankee government. One day in 1872, after most of his gang was killed outside of Amarillo, they encountered the Mad Dog gang. Multiple criminals from Mexico who were being hunted by their own government. It was during a skirmish that my parents met.) The view then moved to the side to show two photo's. One containing the Texas Raiders and the other the pandilla de perros locos. In both photo's, all but one from each was scribbled. Covering their faces. The two that were still showing was Fausta Bell's parents.

"Al principio, los dos se odiaban. Pa, se reía cuando recordaba haberla llamado engrasadora sucia. Y mamá se echó a reír al recordar las veces que lo llamó un niño blanco endogámico con una pequeña polla. Nunca supe exactamente cómo no se mataron entre sí ... ni siquiera me concibieron en primer lugar ... Independientemente, los dos grupos tuvieron fricciones que terminaron en tiroteos o breves alianzas incómodas. Después de un tiempo, las dos pandillas fueron capturadas, asesinadas o huyeron cuando ambos gobiernos tomaron medidas enérgicas contra los forajidos. Eso acaba de dejar a mi padre, mi madre, mi tío, y finalmente a mí, una pequeña familia de forajidos. Dos años después de conocerse, nací en una pequeña cabaña en el desierto de Utah el 5 de mayo de 1874. Pa diría que estaba contento de haber perdido la guerra, porque si no lo hubiera hecho, no me habría aceptado. Es triste decir que ya no soy la niña de sus ojos. No por mucho tiempo."

(At first, the two hated each other. Pa, he would laugh when he remembered calling her a dirty greaser. And Mom laughed as she remembered the times, she called him an inbred white boy with a little dick. I never knew exactly how they didn't kill each other ... or even conceive me in the first place ... Regardless, the two groups had frictions that ended in shootouts or brief awkward alliances. After a time, the two gangs were either captured, killed, or fled when both governments cracked down on the outlaws. That just left my father, my mother, my uncle, and finally me later on, a small family of outlaws. Two years after they met, I was born in a small cabin in the Utah desert on May 5, 1874. Pa would say he was happy that he lost the war, because if he hadn't, he wouldn't have me. It is sad to say that I am no longer the apple of his eye. Not for much longer.) The view then shifts downwards towards a few photos of them. First were separate wanted posters, followed by couples posing for a portrait, then of them with their recently born child.

"Crecí con una educación mínima, o incluso con el conocimiento de cómo actuar cerca de las personas. De hecho, aprendí a disparar mucho antes de que pudiera leer y escribir. La mayoría de las niñas de mi edad habrían estado jugando con muñecas o aprendiendo a coser parches en sus colchas. Sin embargo, no yo, mis padres me enseñaron a pelear y robar. Cuando tenía cinco años, podía dispararle a la pulga desde la parte posterior de una perra. Para cuando tenía once años, estaba cubriendo a mis padres y tío desde el final de un rifle Sharps. El último regalo que me dieron antes de que mis padres atacaran un convoy yanqui que salía de California con una enorme suma de oro. Lamentablemente, este atraco puso a los Pinkertons en nuestro camino poco después. Perdimos mucho de nuestro botín en Austin ... ahí fue cuando las cosas realmente fueron cuesta abajo."

(I grew up with a minimal education, or even with the knowledge of how to act close to people. In fact, I learned how to shoot long before I could read and write. Most girls my age would have been playing with dolls or learning to sew patches on their quilts. However, not me, my parents taught me how to fight and steal. When I was five years old, I could shoot the flea from the back of a bitch. By the time I was eleven, I was covering my parents and uncle from the end of a Sharps rifle. The last gift they gave me before my parents attacked a Yankee convoy leaving California with a huge sum of gold. Sadly, that heist put the Pinkertons on our trail soon after. We lost a lot of our loot in Austin ... that's when things really went downhill.) The view then shifts over to a news article from the mid 1890's. In it, it details how a convoy was attacked and looted by the Bell Family. Twenty dead and forty injured. Next to the news article was the Pinkertons National Detective Agency business card.

"Esa fue la última vez que vi al tío Maxwell. No sabía lo que pasó hasta hace poco. Pa recibió un disparo en el brazo durante nuestra fuga sobre las Montañas Rocosas, Bullet implantado en su brazo. Demasiado profundo para recuperarlo y demasiado doloroso para moverse. Entonces, recurrió a la bebida para ayudar con el dolor, y si no estaba disponible, estaría fumando opio que le dio un hombre local de China. Poco a poco, el hombre que conocí como mi padre lentamente comenzó a desaparecer y se convirtió en un borracho degenerado. Traté de convencer a mi madre para que lo detuviera, pero ella misma no podía ver que el hombre que una vez amó se convirtió en un monstruo. Luego comenzó a golpearla, junto conmigo. Gritando que nada era justo en sus divagaciones borrachas o inconsistentes. Se volvió demasiado para mí, así que le pedí a mi madre por última vez que renunciara, y como la última vez que se negó. Entonces, empaqué mis cosas, mis armas y una foto de mejores tiempos antes de escabullirme por la noche. Tenía 21 años en ese momento. Y esa fue la última vez que vi a mi madre."

(That was the last time I saw Uncle Maxwell. Didn't know what happened till recently. Pa was shot in the arm during our escape over the Rockies, Bullet implanted itself in his arm. Too deep to retrieve, and too painful to move. So, he turned to drinking to help with the pain, and if it wasn't available, he would be smoking opium that he get from a local china man. Slowly, the man who I knew as my father slowly begin to disappear and he became a degenerate drunk. I tried to convince my mother to stop him, but she herself couldn't see that the man she once loved has changed into a monster. He then began to hit her, along with me. Crying out that nothing was fair in his drunk or incoherent ramblings. It became too much for me, so asked my mother one last time to leave him, and like the last time she refused. So, I packed my things, my guns, and a photo of better times before slipping away in the night. I was 21 at the time. And the last time I ever saw my mother.) The view then shifts past the sleeping hand to show two news articles. It detailed the arrest of Travis Bell and how he killed his wife just before his arrest. The news article next to it detailed his hanging in 1900. In the photo you can notice Fausta in disguise as she watched. However, at the center was a boat ticket to Sydney Australia from San Diego.

"Un mes después de que me fui, fui arrestado camino a México. En una pequeña ciudad costera, un individuo rico fue asesinado a tiros. Aparentemente, lo hice a pesar de haber llegado a la ciudad el mismo día. Luego me condenaron a muerte y me enviaron a la Penitenciaría Estatal de Louisiana, donde rompería rocas de 1895 a 1898. El primer mes de mi tercer año, me transfirieron a una prisión en California para hacer un swing. En el camino a través de los territorios de Nuevo México, el automóvil que nos tenía a mí y a otros fue detenido por un extraño y algunas armas alquiladas. Aparentemente vinieron por mí. Después del inesperado rescate, el hombre me llevó a su maestro. La mujer cuyo esposo supuestamente maté. Parece que ella me había liberado con la intención de cazar a las personas que realmente lo hicieron como una forma de venganza de la viuda. Al ver que iba a morir, pensé por qué no. No tengo nada mejor que hacer. Entonces, pasé la mayor parte de un año deambulando por el suroeste con extraños que también fueron perjudicados. Así es como me convertí en parte de la banda Black Bark. Después de un año de aventuras, una ola de crímenes y trabajo independiente ocasional, la pandilla y yo matamos al bastardo antes de seguir nuestro propio camino. Desapareciendo en el desierto. Durante casi dos décadas después de que volví a mis viejos caminos con la ley persiguiéndome por todo el oeste. No fue hasta 1914 que se dieron por vencidos. No podía mostrar mi rostro en las grandes ciudades, pero en los pueblos pequeños, podría ser cualquiera. Sin embargo, todo eso cambió en 1917. México invadió el suroeste, la lucha se volvió brutal cuando el ejército del Tío Sam fue empujado hacia el norte, dejándonos bajo la ocupación mexicana."

(A month after leaving I was arrested on my way to Mexico. In a small costal town, some wealthy individual was shot dead. Apparently, I did it despite just arriving in town the same day. I was then sentence to death, and sent to Louisiana State Penitentiary where I would break rocks 1895 till 1898. The first month of my third year, I was moved to a prison in California to swing. On the way through the New Mexico territories, the wagon that had me and a few others was stopped by a stranger and a few hired guns. Apparently, they wanted me. After the unexpected rescue, the man brought me to his mistress. The woman who husband I supposedly killed. Seems she had me freed with the intention of me hunting down the people who actually did it as a form of Venganza de viudas. Seeing I was on the way to swing for something I didn't do, I figure why not. I ain't got anything better to do. So, I spent the better part of a year roaming the south west with strangers who also been wronged. That's how I became a part of the Black bark gang. After a year of adventures, crime spree's, and the occasional freelance job, the gang and I killed the bastard before headed our own way. Disappearing into the wilderness. For nearly two decades after I fell back on my old ways with the law chasing me around the west. It wasn't until 1914 that they gave up. I couldn't show my face in major cities but in small towns, I could be anyone. However, that all changed in 1917. Mexico invaded the southwest, fighting became brutal as Uncle Sam's army was pushed far north, leaving us under Mexican occupation.) The view pulls under the seat to show multiple photo's spread out. First showed Fausta mugshot, the next was a wealthy individual with his man servant, best friend, and wife. Then there was the picture of her in a gang. On her right was a fellow Mexican with a black Stetson with playing cards sticking out of it. To the far right was a native with half his face covered by a human skull that has been painted in tribal markings. To the left was a female china girl that was playing with a knife by tossing it up and down, finally to the farthest left was a British carpet bagger standing properly. Above it was a wanted poster for Fausta dating 1910. After a bump in the road, this sends a new article detailing that the southwest was under occupation by Mexican forces.

"Me dejaron bastante bien solo porque me parecía a cualquier otro nativo. Sin embargo, aquellos que no parecían mexicanos fueron sometidos a un trato brutal. Vi a cuatro soldados borrachos colgando a un niño por las tripas simplemente mirándolos de la manera incorrecta. Lo que hicieron algunos de estos soldados en su tiempo de inactividad fue indescriptible, y la peor parte fue cómo fueron tan públicos al respecto. Nunca fui fanático de ningún tipo de gobierno. Incluso los que lucharon contra el viejo tío Sam. Entonces, haciendo lo que mi padre habría hecho, agarré mi arma y maté a una docena antes de huir al desierto."

(I was mostly left well enough alone, due to the fact I looked like any other native. However, those who didn't look Mexican were subjugated to brutal treatment. I watched four drunk soldiers hanging a boy by his guts for simply looking at them the wrong way. What some of these soldiers did in their downtime was unspeakable, and the worst part was how they were so public about it. Never was a fan of any kind of government. Even the ones that fought old Uncle Sam. So doing what my father would have done, I grabbed my gun and killed a dozen before fleeing out into the desert.) The view then shifted to the other seat to show a news paper by El Universal, when translated it details how seventeen soldiers and two officers were gunned down by an unknown rebel in the occupied states.

"Parece que no fui el único idiota que tomó las armas contra las fuerzas mexicanas. Gente de todo el suroeste luchó contra las fuerzas de ocupación. Sin embargo, lo único que estos pequeños grupos tenían en común era que seguían una leyenda viva. La Sra. Annie Oakley misma. Parece que durante la invasión su esposo fue solo otra víctima del ataque sorpresa. Y estaba buscando una buena venganza de viuda a la antigua. Me uní a su causa rebelde, aunque no fue exactamente una cálida bienvenida porque parecía una mulata hispana. Sin embargo, Annie nunca me vio como el enemigo. Más bien éramos amigos. Trabajé estrechamente con ella cuando se trataba de embolsar enemigos. Ayudé a la resistencia traduciendo algunos documentos también. Pronto, el grupo me odiaba menos, incluso me hice amigo de algunos. Lamentablemente, todas las cosas buenas llegan a su fin."

(Seems I wasn't the only idiota who took up arms against the Mexican forces. People from all around the south west fought the occupying forces. However the one thing these small groups had in common, was that they followed a living legend. Ms. Annie Oakley herself. Seems that during the invasion her husband was just another casualty of the surprise attack. And she was looking for some good old fashion Venganza de viudas. I joined her rebel cause, though it wasn't exactly a warm welcome due to how I looked like a Hispanic Mulatto. However, Annie never saw me as the enemy. Rather, we were friends. I worked closely with her when it came to pouching enemies. Helped the resistance by translating a few documents as well. Soon, I was less hated by the group, even becoming friends with a few. Sadly, all good things come to an end.) The car goes over another bump, pushing a few photo's. One a sighned card of Phoebe Ann Moses, under her stage name of 'Annie Oakley.' Next to it was a photo of a grave outside of Tombstone Arizona that had engraved words 'Francis E. Buttler Age 71 January 30 1847- March 4 1917'. Under those two was a photo of multiple men and women all cheering after their latest victory over their oppressors. At the center was Annie and Fausta hugging each other as they held their lever actions in hand.

"La primera semana de abril siempre vivirá en la infamia. El ejército envió una fuerza masiva para poner fin a esta rebelión. Nos fortificamos en Fort Mormon Nevada. Con la esperanza de mudarse al norte a San Francisco, necesitaban quitar la espina en la que se había convertido Annie Oakley antes de poder hacerlo. Nos rodearon y nos dieron un ultimátum. Ríndete o muere. Por supuesto, a David se le dio la misma opción en 1836 y, como la última vez, elegimos defender nuestro Álamo. Cinco días de intensos combates finalmente llegaron a su fin cuando el fuerte fue invadido ... Vi a Phoebe morir en una lluvia de disparos. Justo cuando ella murió, la caballería finalmente llegó. El ejército de los Estados Unidos rechazó las fuerzas mexicanas. Lentamente empujándolos a la Ciudad de México en unos pocos meses. Descubrieron la nota de Zimmerman y rápidamente corrieron a Europa en busca de venganza. (Suspiro) Juro que no hay nada más poderoso que la venganza. Nunca me uní a la recientemente nombrada Oakley Sharp Shooter Brigade. De hecho, me estaba recuperando en el hospital de una inyección intestinal. Una maldita cosa casi me arranca las tripas. El gobierno me habría arrastrado por mis crímenes, pero parece que el querido y viejo tío Sam me perdonó. No por lo que hice, sino porque no querían el escándalo de arrestar a uno de los francotiradores del fuerte mormón. Suerte la mía."

(The first week of April always live in infame. The Army sent a massive force to end this rebellion. We held out in Fort Mormon Nevada. Hoping to move north to San Francisco, they needed to remove the thorn that Annie Oakley had become. They surrounded us and gave us an ultimatum. Surrender, or die. Course they gave the same choice to David crocket back in 1836, and like last time, we choose to defend our Alamo. Five days of harsh fighting, eventually came to an end with the fort being overrun… I watched Phoebe die in a hail of gun fire. Just as she died, the cavalry finally arrived. The American army pushed the Mexican forces back. Slowly pushing them to Mexico city in a few months. They discovered the Zimmerman note and quickly raced on over to Europe for revenge. (Sigh) I swear there is nothing more powerful then revenge. I never joined the newly named Oakley Sharp Shooter Brigade. In fact I was recovering in the hospital from a gut shot. Damn thing nearly tore my guts out. The government would have dragged me away for my crimes, but it seems dear old uncle Sam forgave me. Not because what I've done, but because they didn't want the scandal of arresting one of the sharpshooters from the Mormon fort. Lucky me.) The view them moves down to show two photo's of Mormon Fort Nevada. The First was before, the second was after the siege. The bodies of both rebel, American, and Mexican troops were laying about on the ground. Below it was a photo of the Francis E. Buttler grave, however it was expanded to show the grave next to reads 'Annie Oakley Buttler Age 58 April 5th 1918'. As the bumps slowly begin to become more frequent a poster for the Oakley SS Brigade flew forward covering the photos. In it, it advertised for women to join while painting Annie Oakley as a martyr.

"Con la ley que ya no me persigue, era libre de disfrutar la vida. Gasté el dinero que reuní después de años de robo y construí un rancho en las afueras de El Paso, Texas. Viví una vida solitaria pero pacífica. Eso fue hasta el mes pasado. Recibí un telegrama de mi tío. Parece que estaba en su testamento. Dirigiéndome a Australia, descubrí dónde pasó sus años crepusculares. Parece que él también se casó. Tenía cinco hijos para arrancar también. Sin embargo, algo extraño sucedió recientemente. Sufrió un derrame cerebral. Cuando se recuperó, se despertó con una extrañeza y fascinación. Era como si fuera un niño otra vez. El periódico local lo llamó Mad Man Max. Condujo en un círculo llorando durante horas. Predicando lo hermoso que era un día o encerrándose en una biblioteca pública y comía cada libro. Junto con eso, habló en un idioma que precede al sumerio con facilidad. Teniendo en cuenta que mi tío nunca aprendió a hablar inglés y que no podía contar hasta diez sin la ayuda de sus dedos, me resultó difícil de creer. También lo hicieron su esposa e hijos, todos menos uno de los cuales lo dejaron. Su más viejo Hamish Webber. Estuvo con su padre hasta hace unos dos meses, cuando tuvo otro derrame cerebral. Esta vez se despertó gritando sobre monstruos, arañas. Y las sombras fuera del tiempo. Antes de su muerte, le había escrito algo a su primogénito. No es una nota de palabras finales, sino de coordenadas para algún lugar del Gran Desierto de Arena. Gastó cada centavo de su beca en la Universidad de Syndny, desenterrando este extraño lugar del que tío Max habló en sus últimos días. Recientemente, el equipo descubrió piedras con extraños escritos y dibujos. Esto fue suficiente para que él saliera al desierto con él. Solo espero que pueda cerrar algo sobre su viejo."

(With the law no longer chasing me I was free to enjoy life. I spent the money I gathered from years of robbing and built myself a ranch outside of El Paso Texas. Their I lived a solitary life. That was until, last month. I received a telegram from my uncle. Seems he had passed and I was in his will. Heading to Australia I found where he spent his twilight years. Seems he too got married. Had five kids to boot as well. However recently something strange happened. He suffered a stroke. While recovering he awoken with a strangeness and fascination in everything. It was like he was a child again. The local paper dubbed him, Mad Man Max. He would drive in a circle crying out for hours. Preaching how lovely a day it was or, lock himself in a public library and ate every single book. Along with that he spoke in a language that predates Sumerian with ease. Considering my uncle never learn to speak English and couldn't count pas ten without the aid of his fingers I found it all to hard to believe. So did his wife and children who all but one left him. His oldest Hamish Webber. He stood by his father till he about two months ago, when he had another stroke. This time he awoke screaming about monsters, spiders. And the shadows out of time. Before his death, he had written something to his first born. Not a note of final words but of coordinates to someplace out in the Great Sandy Desert. He spent every cent from his scholarship to the University of Sydney, into excavating this bizarre place Uncle Max talked about in his final days. Recently, the team has uncovered stones with strange writings and drawings. This was enough to get me to come out with him into the desert. I just hope he can get some closure on his old man.) As she finishes her monologue, the view pulls out to reveal a newspaper describing multiple mis-adventures of Mad Man Max. The last of those photo's was his obituary, next to it was a photo of his oldest son who looked a lot like the kid sleeping in the back of the car. In the news article, he proclaims. "I will clear my father's good name. even if it kills me." On the top was hand written coordinates reading 22° 3′ 14″ S, 125° 0′ 39″ E.

The view pulls up upon the driver, she takes a moment to look up at the full moon. It was massive out here in the Australian outback. Without the lights from cities or towns, she can see the night sky more clearly. It was beautiful, to a sense. After a few minutes the car begins to rattle as she drives over rocks, fauna, and a rabbit. All this rattling caused the passenger in the back to spring up from his nap.

"Uhp?! Ugh… are we there yet?" Hamish act as he wiped the sand from his eyes and readjust his glasses.

"Nearly there, I recon." Fausta remarked in English. The two remained quiet for over an hour of the journey. It was strange, to say the least. Up until last week, the two had no idea of each other's existence. They only met up during the wake, and suffice to say it was equally strange for Fausta's young cousin. As they slowly moved through the desert, a sudden pop shook the car, and smoke seeped out from the hood into their faces.

"Ugh, Estúpido artilugio de metal!" Fausta cursed as smoke begin pouring in from the hood.

"Car trouble?" Hamish asked as he fan the smoke from his face.

"(Sigh) Yeah it seems so." Fausta remarked as she slowed down the car. Once it came to a complete stop, Fausta got out of the car and looked under the hood. Under the rental car, smoke spat out. As Fausta waved it out of her face, she remarked. "Dios maldiga esta cosa al infierno, why couldn't we travel by hoarse?"

"Because they would die long before we reach our location." Hamish remarked as retrieved his school satchel. "Sides, camels would have been more effective way of travel."

He then pulls out a copper bullet flashlight, pencil, and a map. After calculating the stars, he made an educated guess where they were. As he slowly calculates, Fausta pulls out a cigarette. As she strikes up the match, she couldn't help but feel like they were being watched. She figures it was coyotes or whatever stocks the Great Sandy Desert of east Australia. However, it didn't feel like any nocturnal creature before. If anything, it felt like it had a sense of malice. As she takes a drag from her cigarette, she couldn't shake this feeling. As she was just about to exhale, she feels something on her shoulder. Flinching she quickly turning to see it was just her cousin.

"Didn't you catch anything I said Ms. Bell?" Hamish asked with a confused look on his face.

"Um, no. Tenía mi cabeza en las nubes." Fausta remarked.

"What?" Hamish asked with a confused look. Before Fausta could repeat herself in English Hamish simply shrugs it off. "Tsk, doesn't matter. Anyways it seems we are lucky. The exhibition site is just over that hill."

He then points to the hill north of them. It wasn't that far. He then continued, "It's logical that one of the workers know how to repair a car. (Sigh) Shame that I had to wear my Oxfords."

Fausta rolled her eyes at his statement of shoe choices. She takes another drag before giving a gesture for him to lead the way. He then heads towards the hill, with Fausta retrieving something wrapped in a native blanket before following him. As they moved up the hill, Fausta still can't shake that feeling of being watched. It made her slightly unnerved, to calm herself she begins taking longer drags. By the time they were halfway up the hill she her cigarette was a stub. She discarded it haphazardly by tossing it to the side.

The view pulls on the discarded cigarette, as it bounced off the ground, it begin to pick up speed as it rolled down the hill. Eventually it comes to a stop at the bottom of the hill. As the view slowly focus on the cigarette. After a few moments the smoke slowly begin to fade… till a wispy wind like sound can be heard. Suddenly something invisible pushed the cigarette down into the desert. The last bit of smoke slowly ascended from underneath the foot to show that what ever is standing on it, wasn't one the strange creatures that move through the Australian desert. Rather something ancient, that hasn't been seen on this planet surface in nearly seven hundred and fifty million years ago. The last thing we see is the sickening foot of the creature slowly becoming visible. It can be best described as an inky, misty, tumor infested bird like leg with a single eye looking up the screen.

Over with the two, they had made it up the hill to see a small campsite below. It was dark, no lights not even a campfire. This cause the two to shiver in Dred. Despite the unsettling view, the two ventured down into the campsite. As they got closer, it soon became apparent why it was quiet. The place looked like it was ransacked. Everything has been tossed around. Trash littered the sandy floor, and personal things looked half eaten. What frightened the two was the discovery of massive blood splatters inside a tent.

It looked like something ripped the workers to shreds. The sight was to much for Hamish. He was a student of mathematics and Astronomy, not a soldier during the great war. He couldn't look for long before vomiting. Fausta had witness the worst of mankind, but never had she seen a man ripped to shreds with only a few limbs and blood splats remains. This looked like the attack by a rabid animal than anything else. But what animal can get the drop on five men without waking the rest to their screams?

"Ugh, please close the tent. For god sakes please close it." Hamish said as he wiped the viol from his lips. Not wanting to look at the massacre herself, Fausta closed the tent flap.

As it does, she notices how it caught on a lamp. Needing a light source of her own she picks it up and struck a match. With the light of lamp, she couldn't help but notice something up on the hillside. It looked like the background was shimmering, like a mirage. She squints her eyes to try and get a better look. As her old eye's adjust to the strange mirage Hamish broke her concentration.

"Ms. Bell, Ms. Bell! Come over here!" Hamish called out. Fausta looks behind her, seeing Hamish's light was near the base of the hill. She quickly turns around at the mirage. Whatever it was, it's gone now. With a sigh she turns and walked towards her cousin with a powerful wispy howl of the wind being heard far away.

After a minute she came over to a small tunnel, she had to kneel down to get in. As she painfully crawled through, she can notice how the cave started to get, bluer. It was strange, the rocks were glowing a cold blue color. After crawling what feels like an hour she finally crawled out into a massive hallway. It was a massive cathedral like structure, with polygon style floor, and a massive arch that made her feel like an ant inside a shack. The place felt otherworldly, along with an unsettling sense of unease. As she looks around, she begins to wonder if the thing that killed the men outside wasn't an animal. Rather something that should have been left buried.

Play "The Dreamlands: H.P Lovecraft Orchestral Horror Music" By Graham, Plowman for extra effect.

"My god. Ms. Bell… do you know what this means?" Hamish asked with a tone of excitement.

"Nosotras no deberíamos estar aquí." Fausta Bell remarked as she walked over to a down rock.

"Exactly… I think. This place alone proves my father's innocence. His wild speculations. His reputation." Hamish said with excitement. He then begins to chuckle madly with glee. "Heh, Heh, Heh, Heh, not only that, but this could be the biggest discover of the century. And underground civilization. An Atlantis of the sand… Is that a gun?"

While expressing his joy of the discover, he failed to notice Fausta unwrapping the blanket to reveal a 1873 Winchester rifle. As she gives it a quick cock, Hamish notices the weapon in hand. Faust then said. "Si, it is. And as I said in Spanish, we shouldn't be here."

"Come now, of course we were meant to be here. Without my father, your uncle we would have never found this place." Hamish remarked with a wide grin.

"No, think about it. Your father's madness. The deaths and mutilation of the workers. And now this, a city buried under the sands. Incluso un hombre ciego puede ver que esta es una mala idea. We should leave now and come back with an armed escort." Fausta remarked, to Hamish's disappointment.

"Not a chance in hell. If we leave, the sands may over sweep this place back under the sands. Or some other scholar might make claims to this discovery before we could even muster a force. Sides, since when did an armed bushranger lose their nerve in the face of adventure." Hamish said in a mocking tone as he walked down the hall.

"Proscrita." Fausta remarked to herself as she rolled her eyes. "And I don't think this 44. will help."

She followed Hamish as he wandered down the halls of this strange and almost alien like ruins. A few sectors looked to be blocked off by rubble and decay. In one case, the entire floor had fallen into the what can look like a bottomless pit. As they walked through the massive cavern Fausta kept feeling like she was being watched. Or that something was following her. The wind begin to get louder as they descended ever deeper into the massive ruins of this alien city. Eventually they came to a dead end in some sort of Spiral tower. At the top was a massive galaxy background. As Hamish looked around excitedly at what they found, Fausta couldn't help but go another cigarette to calm herself. As she tries to strike up her match she leans against the wall, accidently pushing a button. Suddenly the floor begins to rise with parts of the wall pushing out. A few nearly crushed the two as they moved about. Eventually, the floor stopped just below the roof and the center forming a round table like circle. With a closer look at it, Hamish soon recognize a few of the stars on the ceiling.

"No, that can't be correct. That would mean… remarkable." He mused to himself.

"What is?" Fausta asked as she carefully made sure to not step on anything.

"See this, that's the milky way galaxy." Hamish said as he points to the right side of the circle. He then points to the center of the ceiling where a massive white star like shape was set. He then remarked "Yet by this projection it seems that this calculation was taken lightyears from Earth."

"So what does that mean?" Fausta asked, still at a loss by what her Cousin was bantering on about. Hamish didn't answer right away, rather he walked over to the circular table in the center of the room. He then placed his fingers on it and gave a small nudge. With minimal effort the table spin and the ceiling begin to change. Realizing what he had stumble upon, Hamish gives a gleeful chuckle.

"Heh, it's a calendar Ms. Bell. A Bloody Aztec calendar. Heh and it's last date is at the beginning of the Cretaceous period." He then begins to push the wheel causing the ceiling to shift.

Fausta watches in astonishment and horror. With every twist Hamish made to the wheel, new stars appeared to replace a few that disappeared. Eventually, a white void begins to incircle the ceiling. Fausta watches as the circle got closer and closer to the center. She had no idea what this all means, but she shudders when she sees a planet with a cracked moon disappearing under the white void. As the void slowly creeps to the Milky way, the clicking comes to a stop.

"So, it seems they had their own doomsday clock. Fascinating." Hamish said as he pulls out a pencil and notepad. "Brilliant, just brilliant."

Fausta on the other hand did not want to know what her cousin was talking about. As he scribbles down what he is seeing, she notices that there was an open passage surrounding them, not as big as the one she and Hamish took but big enough that you could fit a southern plantation manner with space to fit another. So, with curiosity getting the better of her, she wanders in with only the light from her lamp to luminate her way. She walked through the halls of this strange land before finally coming upon something strange. It was a row of massive glass like wall. They were small, but very thick in diameter. Each one neatly organized in rows with something stuck in the center of each one. She walked over to each one of the glasses to see what looked like red wires taking the shape of different things. One looked like a deformed horse with wings. Another was of a potted plant with wings. Then there was one that looked like a man with wings… wait a minute. She walked back over to that last one. She looked closely, for a moment before realizing something. These weren't wires… they were veins.

As the shock sent her stumbling back before knocking over one of the glasses. Before she could react the entire shelf of glass begins to fall over like dominos. Each one knocking over another. As it does so the glass shattered upon hitting the ground. With each loud crash the objects inside poured out in a sort of soggy grey liquid leaking out. Within seconds, Fausta was knee high in liquid that had a number of dissected creatures floating about. Greatly disturbed Fausta was just about to flee when she notices on last glass wall was standing. At the center of it was a child with platinum blond hair. Her face detailed that of horror. Her clothes was once a formal dress that detailed a snowy backdrop, now torn to a sunder. A thin blade was in her left hand… that was just above her head in a neatly organized manner. Seeing her in a state like that broke Fausta. What ever done this to her… what ever abomination that would dissect these creatures. Well, she would never want to end up like that.

So, she decided to smash this last glass wall. She aims at it with her lever action and fires. The first-round scratches it. Enraged she begins to empty her rifle into it. One shot after another the round slowly stopped bouncing and actually begin to pierce the glass, with the last shot, the glass begins to crack rapidly.

After a few moments, the glass broke and the girls slowly floated out and to her feet. Her arm just floating above her. Feeling somewhat better about freeing this stranger's corpse, Fausta leans down to close the poor girls' eyes. She kneels down and was just about to close them when the girl blinked.

"¡JESÚS MADRE MIERDA CRISTO!" Fausta screams as she falls onto her back. The girl soon takes a deep breath, like she had just drowned and was just resurrected. She begins to mutter something in a strange language.

"H''s nog, jaune c' need l' bug, jaune! oh Monty, ahagl h' ah. Ahf' ahagl. Get naIIII ya! hafh, somebody ahlloigehye. Y' need assistance! yang yog mgr'luh mgep ymg'. Oh r'luhhor ruby f' got h'. Ruby? Ruby!" After speaking these words, she hurled up a white murky substance from her body after a few moments she blinked a few times before looking around. "Wha… where am I"

As she struggles to stand in a dazed and confused state, she suddenly felt shock of pain. Falling back to her knees she goes to grab her left arm only to feel nothing. Looking down at it her eye's widen in horror to see that her arm was floating in the water. Her arm, despite missing the rest of it didn't blead. Not at first. As she stares her brain couldn't registered that her arm was missing till the color returned. A sudden burst of blood spurts out like pump. The numbness begins to slowly loose it's effect and the young girl begins to feel the pain of missing a limb. Over with Fausta she just watched as this girl who had no idea what's going on slowly bleeding to death. Seeing that she remembers that there was a medical kit back in the car. If she can get her there, she may be able to survive. She finally managed to stand up before walking over to this strange girl, all while she removed her blue bandanna. The girl finally notices her, with a sunken look she said nothing. Fausta didn't say anything at first, rather she just tied her Bandana over the wound to stop the bleeding. She then ripped the girls sleeve off to make an elbow sling.

"Shh, Todo estará bien, pequeña." Fausta said trying to comfort her.

"… What in Monty's name did you say?" The girl quipped in a snobbish tone. "Wait, can you even speak common language?"

"… English. I can speak it, but it's as common as a girl who's flatter the barren plane." Fausta said with an irritated tone as she tightens the bandana.

"Ugh, point taken." The girl said in a grunt of pain. Fausta then helped the young girl to her feet. She tried to walk on her own but ends up stumbling till Fausta helped her up. She then looked down to see her arm floating in the murky water. She then remarks with a sadden smirk. "Heh, guess I know how Yang feels."

She then reaches down to retrieve the blade from her hand before motioning Fausta to continue out towards the door. As they leave, the camera focuses on the girl's hand. It continues to float before the wispy noise of the wind came over. Suddenly the hand was pushed under the water. Back over with the two, Fausta had finally managed to get the girl out of the room. However, she continued to nearly douse off. Knowing she needed to stay awake, Fausta begins to talk to her.

"Ey, despierta. Now isn't the time to sleep." Fausta said before giving a light slap on the cheek.

"Ugh, I know… but the sudden blood loss… makes it very hard to stay conscious." The girl remarks.

"Well, why don't you tell me your name, Niña extraña." Fausta suggested as she spots Hamish scribbling something on the wall.

The girl remains quiet for a few moments before speaking. "Weiss… Weiss Schnee… former Heir to the SDC."

"Alright, Ms. Schnee. Just hold on for a bit longer. Count from 100 down or something. Just keep talking to yourself." Fausta said as she leans her on the stone circle.

"Sure, like that doesn't make one sound derange." Weiss mutters as she begins to count down silently to herself while Fausta strolled over to her cousin.

While Fausta was helping Schnee, Hamish has been studying the text upon the walls with great enthusiasm. As he happily writes down everything, he fails to notice his cousin walking over. Fausta called out his name. When he didn't respond she said his name again. Realizing he was in his own world she tapped him on the shoulder. This time it did got a response.

"¡Prima! Didn't you hear me?" Fausta asked loudly as Hamish blinks a few times.

"Hmm, sorry what?" Hamish asked slightly irritated at Fausta for interrupting his study.

"We need to leave. I found a survivor and she is badly injured. If we don't leave now then she can die." Fausta explained, this didn't get the response she expected.

"Leave? Why so soon?" Hamish asked.

"Because she will die, Prima!" Fausta points out with anger in her tone. "Think about your father. My uncle. What would he think of you if you left someone to die?"

"Tsk like your father did in Texas you fucking stupid Criollo?" Hamish said as he walked past her. As he did he begins to chuckle crazy before turning around. "Don't you understand Ms. Bell! This place is more important than some child?"

"Dios maldito primo! She's bleeding out over there. Listen to yourself you damn fool!" Fausta shouted only for Hamish to turn around and shout back.

"For once you will listen to me! This discovery alone, invalidates everything. Our History, our Biology, none of it means anything anymore! She doesn't matter, we don't matter, mankind doesn't MATTER!" Hamish screams in anger and derange insanity.

As he huffs in anger, the loud wind hissing sound can be heard from the hallway that Fausta and Weiss emerged from. The sound got slightly louder as something moved into the room with them. Looking down, the three notice something invisible enters. Only way they can see it is by the white liquid dripping from its ankle. After a few moments, a smoke begins to appear from nowhere. Reveling it's horrifying form to the three. It's demented form can only be described as a flying smoking tumor like creature. It had multiple sets of eye's, teeth, and tendrils. Despite it floating midair, it left behind a small foot print from the feet that would drag along the ground. It blinked a few times before letting out a loud wispy like scream that caused the three to cover their ears. The shockwave from the monsters pitched voice send the three to the ground in agony. Hamish glasses begin to crack as he screams out in agony. After finishing it's howl, the creature ran towards Weiss with great speed.

Quickly reacting despite her drowsiness, Weiss quickly rolled out of the way just as the monster smash down on the stone table. Fausta got recovers shortly after and points her rifle to fire upon the creature. However, she failed to remember that she was empty. She then begins to reload her Winchester while Weiss evades the monster. Even with the adrenalin kicking in, the monster was much faster than Weiss. It continues to swing at her, always coming close to hitting her. Acting quickly Weiss gives herself some room before getting into a defensive stand. She was naturally left-handed, but she has practice with her right. Giving herself a second she lunges forward and perfectly impaled the creature… to no avail.

When she lunged, the creature turns to smoke and the blade passes through it. She then felt a tendril wrap around her waist before she could react, the creature lifted her up and begin to squeeze the life out of her. Struggling to breath the creature pulls her close to one of it's many jagged jaws. Putting up some resistance she pierced her blade into it's eye. However that too turn to smoke. It seemed that nothing Weiss could do, would stop the creator from swallowing her. Just as her head was in its teeth, a series of gunshots can be heard. Fausta had fired off multiple rounds into the monster. Reacting to the bullets, the creature turns to smoke. However, with its smoke form, Weiss was freed from its grasp and fell to the ground with a thud.

"We need to leave! Get going!" Fausta shouted out as she fired off a few more rounds.

Weiss didn't respond verbally but gave a small nod. She begins to run towards Fausta as the creature tried to grab her. As this happened Hamish was in shock by what he was witnessing. This monster was both physical and gas at the same time. It defied simple laws of genetics, and was even more gruesome to look at. He didn't even feel the soft hands of the young girl Fausta saved till he was jerked aside. Weiss grabbed him and pulled him down a hallway with Fausta following behind them once she expelled all her ammo on the creature. The three bolted through the darkened hallways of this strange labyrinth, with the creature refusing to give up its prey. As they ran, they soon took a wrong turn, finding themselves at the edge of a collapse hallway. The floor had fallen in, and they could see nothing but darkness bellow.

"¡Mierda!" Fausta said as she turns around. The creature was catching up to them, and there is nowhere to go now.

"Oh, bloody hell. We're doom. Simply doomed. God help us all." Hamish remarked as he held his hands on his head in fear. As he begins to silently weep in fear, Weiss noticed that there was solid flooring on the other side of the pit. Problem is she couldn't jump it. But why would she.

"Fausta… please don't leave me or my weapon behind." Weiss said as she walked to the edge of the pit.

Fausta gave a strange look at Weiss, but before she could ask Weiss raised her Rapier before stabbing the ground. A gunshot like sound can be heard as the blade pierce the ground. Suddenly, a white circle with a snowflakes crest appeared over the hole. They begin to freeze making the perfect bridge for the three to get across. However, Weiss must have used all her strength in doing it, because after a moment preforming this miracle, she finally fell unconscious. Words could not explain the shock Fausta had. However, she was brought back to the present by the loud shriek of the monster. She quickly grabbed Weiss before retrieving her sword.

"What are you doing! Leave her!" Hamish shouts as makes it halfway across the bridge.

"Not now Bastarda tonta!" Fausta grunted as she carried Weiss and her sword across the bridge.

As she just makes it across, the monsters creature followed behind. It floated above the bridge, however it still made it crack from its weight. The two didn't stay long to see it fall, by the time the creature had crossed they were long gone. As they ran through the hallways, they soon come across the same passageway they entered through. They got on their knees and begin to crawl through the caverns, halfway through the monster caught up with them. It turned into a gas form and followed after the three. Hamish managed to crawl out first, Fausta pushes Weiss out before pulling herself. Unfortunately, the creature grabbed her by her leg. She was being dragged back into the ruins. Hamish quickly ran over to her and grabbed ahold of his cousin as she struggles to fight off the monster. As she struggles, she tries to grab anything to assist her. Her hand falls on Weiss Rapier. Without thinking she stabs the creature with it. Course that didn't do anything… well, not until she pulled the trigger.

A sudden burst of electricity shot out of the thin sword. The creature lets go as it slithers away in agony. As it does, it whacks the supports of that held up the shaft. This caused the cave to collapse in on itself. Fausta with the help of Hamish managed to pull herself out before the cave could crush her. The two fell to the ground as the smoke and dust shoot out from the cave. The two struggled to their feet as they cough from the dust that hit their faces. As they waved off the smoke Hamish looked up at the night sky. As he readjusts his glasses, he soon realized something. He couldn't believe it, but after studying that map his young mind couldn't even begin to grasp at it. He begins to cry, whimper, before finally screaming in horror at the truth. Fausta tried to get him to calm down, but nothing can help the poor boy now. He knows too much, and his mind snapped with no hope of his sanity returning.

One Week later inside a small motel in Goulburn, early evening.

Things… have been slow since their return from the desert. Whatever Hamish had seen in the stars was too much for his young mind to comprehend. He was sent to Melbourne Kew Asylum, where he most likely spends the rest of his days in a padded cell. When pressed about what had happened by the press, Fausta left almost everything out and that there are some things best left buried and undisturbed. As the days dragged on, the press finally gave up to cover the overpopulation problem the Emu's has caused to Australian farmers. Which was fine, for Fausta. She had more concerning problems. She had just got back to her motel, where Weiss was staying. She entered the room to see the young girl was working on something with stacks of books surrounding her. Ever since the three returned from the desert, Weiss has been quiet. The doctor nearly vomited when they saw Weiss's body. It was covered in so many surgical scars he wondered what human could inflict such cruelty on anyone. By the end of the medical evaluation it seems that Weiss was missing almost all her nerves, a kidney, pieces of her liver. A bit of different tissue samples, and a chunk of her lung. Despite that she didn't seem to be any mortal danger.

After medical evaluation, Fausta went with her to buy some new clothes. Weiss's old clothes were tarnished by whatever captured and experimented on her. Fausta Bought her a few clothing outfits for her to wear. She however wanted to wear the most expensive clothes. When Fausta explained that she just can't spend a small fortune on pants, Weiss tried to use plastic cards as currency. Suffice to say she was not so gun hoe to learn that her money was no good. After hours and nearly a day of bartering, they finally managed to get her a leg length blue skirt with white stockings with a pair of white high heels. She had a white blouse on with a dark blue over coat that was currently hanging on the back of her chair. She was disassembling her blade on the table. It was difficult to do with only one arm, but she managed to dismantle the revolver portion of the blade. It was strange to say the least, a revolver that's also a European sword. As Fausta takes a seat across from her, Weiss didn't remark or look up to see her. She was focused on her work of fixing her weapon. After a few moments Fausta broke the Ice.

"¿Estás siempre tan callado? ¿O solo cuando no estás actuando como una perra snob?" (Are you always so quiet? Or just when you're not acting like a snob bitch?) Fausta asked.

Weiss look up from her weapon with a glair, she then responds in near perfect spanish. "Tampoco, pero refiérete a mí como una perra y te haré comer esas palabras." (Neither, but refer to me as a bitch and I'll make you eat those words.)

"Ah, so you learn to speak Spanish." Fausta remarked an impressed tone.

"Not quiet, but just enough to somewhat understand." Weiss remarked as continued with her work. "It's difficult to do proper research and studio without a computer mainframe, CCTS, or intern-dust guides on speaking a language that I learned just three days back. But at least public libraries are still a thing."

"… I don't even know what half them words mean." Faust remarked having no idea what a Computer is.

"Not my point, it's been all to bizarre for me. Especially being locked away in stasis for Monty knows how long." Weiss then puts down the cylinder before putting her finger to her right eye. "I can still feel my Cornea and Iris thawing out."

Weiss can see that she lost Fausta, so she gives a small sigh before explaining. "I was frozen in time. For a really long time."

"No, I get that. Just not how a child, like yourself understands multiple parts of a human eye." Fausta remarks. "Hell, when I was your age, I did more shooting then reading."

"Hmm, you remind me of a certain dolt… Monty almighty, where was she?" Wiess said before looking down shaking a bit.

Seeing that Fausta puts her hand on Weiss to calm her down. After a few moments, Fausta removed her hand before saying. "Why not tell me your story. Cause I don't exactly have an idea how you managed to form that snowflake of yours."

"My semblance?" Weiss asked with a raised brow.

"Yeah, whatever you call it." Fausta remarked.

"Well, what would you refer to the invisible force protecting your body from physical harm?" Weiss remarked in a snob tone.

"Magic, cause no one has that thing. Cept maybe you." Fausta remarked.

"… Wait, so you don't have Aura?" Weiss asked with a surprise look.

"Nope." Fausta replied.

"Dust?" Weiss asked with concern in her voice.

"Only in old houses." Fausta Remarked.

"Phones?" Weiss asked with worry.

"Yes, we have them." Fausta answered. Weiss then lets out a small sigh of relief before Fausta continued. "Though, I'm doubtful the downstairs counter will allow you to use it if you use that plastic cash."

"Yeah… wait, downstairs? Don't you have one on you?" Weiss asked with a confused look on her face.

"How am I going to carry one, let alone call without a telephone line?" Fausta remarked.

It then dawned upon Weiss that she was referring to that relic they call a phone downstairs. Now knowing the full extent, she leans down on her hand in despair at what she will have to live through. "Oh dear Monty… this is hell. I've died and gone to a luddite populated world."

"Lud-dite?" Fausta remarked with a raised brow.

"(Sigh) Doesn't matter… Still, since you're here do you mind if I ask a few questions?" Weiss asked.

"Por supuesto, I don't have anything better to do." Fausta remarked.

From their Weiss inquired everything she could not find in the books she borrowed from the Library. She learned of the Great War. The martyr of Mormon fort. Why Fausta was so far from home. And how the hell she ended up in a ruin buried somewhere out in the desert. Course with all of Weiss's questions answered to her satisfaction, Fausta had a few more to ask herself. Weiss explained Dust, Aura, her family company, trials to enter Beacon, adventures at Beacon, and after Beacon. When asked how Weiss found herself on earth it was a vague and strange answer, all the while being absolutely horrifying. She and her friends were heading to her home Atlas when suddenly she heard what can be described as flutes. It was a disturbing sound that rattles her. When it got too loud, she had to cover her ears to try and block it out. When it went silent, she found herself in a ruin city with her friends. Nobody had any ideas on how they got there but before anyone could answer, they were attacked by an… abomination that no words could come close to describe her disgust for it.

They were split up after realizing fighting was futile and ran to cover. Weiss found herself in the lower caverns of the city, there she found a strange machine. She accidently touched it and a strange portal opens. On the other side was lush vegetation, warmth that felt tropical. Suddenly a strange giant like being came forth. It had immense rugose cones ten feet high, and with head and other organs attached to foot-thick, distensible limbs spreading from the apexes. It spoke by the clicking and scraping its huge paws or claws like hands that was attached to the end of two of their four limbs, and walked by the expansion and contraction of a viscous layer attached to its vast ten-foot bases. Weiss then tried to run but before she could even get far, the thing wrapped its claws around her. The last thing she saw before being pulled was Ruby. Trying to reach for her.

She screamed out before everything went dark. She can't exactly explain what happened, but if she could describe it. It was like being in a coma. Unable to see anything, but she picked up on a few sounds but unable to understand. Worst was when that thing played with her body. She couldn't feel pain… but it was disconcerting when it poked at her organs. After what felt like an eternity, she heard a new sound. Gunshots. The rest, Fausta was there.

That is where Weiss's story ended. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two. By the scars on her torso it seems that whatever that creature did to her was solely experimental. Something that sent shivers down Fausta's spine whenever she thinks back to the library. Feeling slightly sorry, Fausta explains that a boat was going to leave for San Francisco in a month. She was free to come along if she wishes. Weiss said she will think about it. Giving a respectful nod Fausta left to go find a bar. Weiss on the other hand, decided to get some fresh air. She walked over to the window and opened it. She then gazed up towards the starry night sky. She watches as a shooting star passes by, the stars shimmer. As she watches, music soon begins to play as the scene focuses on one star that will never be seen again.

Play, "The ballad of Jesse James" by north country gentlemen lyrics

I was just a boy when they tied me to that tree
They hung my daddy's brother, left him swinging over me
I went off to get my vengance underneath a flag of red
And that angel on my shoulder she ain't spoke to me since then.

Well I tried my hand at working, but working's not for me
So I left my wife and children in the state of misery
I went off to make my living for my daughter and my son
And I found an occupation at the wrong end of a gun. Lying here looking up at the cracks in the roof
Well I thought you were my friend but I guess I was a fool.
There's no pain only blood and the smoke from your gun
And I ain't on the run anymore. I joined a band of brothers, and those brothers took my name
We were feared across the country as the gang of Jesse James.
Some folks call me a hero but those folks don't know me well
There's no place for me in heaven, there's no peace for me in hell. Lying here looking up at the cracks in the roof
Well I thought you were my friend but I guess I was a fool.
There's no pain only blood and the smoke from your gun
And I ain't on the run anymore. I thought you were my brother, but now its come to this
You'll be off to get your silver just like Judas with no kiss
And that angel on my shoulder on my shoulder looked me deeply in the eye
As she turned to face the doorway, I could hear that angel cry. Lying here looking up at the cracks in the roof
Well I thought you were my friend but I guess I was a fool.
With my Colt 44 lying cold on the floor
Well I ain't on the run anymore.

Narrator POV

… Inside an abandoned theater.

The view pulls on a somewhat empty stage. A small flickering light shines down on a man in a soviet gasmask. He was currently hanging upside down by his feet. As he hangs their, he tries to get himself free from a straightjacket. Clearly failing he begins to mumble to himself.

"Ugh… son of a… How in the hell does that magic owl do this?" The man mumbles before realizing that readers are watching him.

"Oh, why hello there. Didn't expect you to be dropping by, heh… crap!" Before he could finish chuckling to himself, the man slips from the pole and falls face first onto the ground. After a few moments, he picks himself up. "Ugh, I'm ok… ish."

He then stands up and looks towards the camera. "Right hello everybody. Wombag1786 here. So, if you're wondering what this whole thing is, well. I love to add myself to any story I'm in. Not as a character, but more like a director. Someone who walk out on the stage and give a special announcement after or before the story begins. Sometimes I get meta and do a little comedic skit. Like trying to preform Houdini's straight jacket escape. Clearly failing at the moment. Anyways, before I start, I wish to say, that I haven't caught the coronavirus. I wish all those who are reading this hasn't caught the virus or have a love one who has either. If you have or know someone who has you have my thoughts and prayers. I also want to say that there is a poll for a new story. If you wish to vote on it, it's posted on my main page. (If you want information on the stories, go to CH60 of Rose Over A Shallow Grave. A story that I recently finished.) Right with that done. I think I'll get onto reading your questions and comments."

He then tries to reach for the list of comments but couldn't do to his restraints. With a small sigh he whispers aloud. "(Sigh)… a little help?"

As he said that, Weiss hand reaches out from the shadow and grabs the paper before handing it to him. "Aw, thanks Weiss."

Wombag then goes on to read the reviews and questions.

From FEV Grim: OY! Your Irish not Scottish. Have some standards… you wee posh cunt. Thanks, hopefully she lives long enough for the second world war. Or until things goes sideways. But that's a story for another day. Heh, still laughing at that chapter's introduction. Maybe, maybe not. Depends on choices these characters make.

Thanks for writing FEV Grim.

From Pherix2003: Thanks, it felt right to kick off the new year.

Thanks again. (I defiantly came a long way since my first story. But I feel there could be room for improvement. Hence why I request people to criticize. It helps improve my writing along with the story.)

Alright, noted. Thanks, but I'll always try to get these stories done as quick. It's a habit but lately I have stride to correct myself first hand. Still, if it helps the matter I have been working on future chapters in my free time. Some are completed and been reviewed by friends.

Ch1. Is exactly 11,074 words long, Ch2. 16,123 words long. Ch. 3 is 20,111 words long, Ch4 is 14,785 words long. And this chapter is exactly 12799 words long. So, it's a challenge at times to keep the chapters in a neat average.

Ah, well that was a translated song. (The Festival by Hp. Lovecraft Historical society.) Everything else I mostly made up. There is very little information about him and how to join the cult. So if it feels light or not Lovecrafty enough I do apologies. (What I do know, is that unless you read the book, you can't see the sign. Hence why followers ask if you can see the yellow sign. A sort of code word for "are you a member of the cult.") But for the monster, that was a Byakhee something that appears in Lovecrafts monsters.

Ah, I see. Eh, she's more or less a ditz character. Someone who will be in the background for the most part. With the occasional front row. Still, your criticism has been noted. Oh, she's not a fan submitted OC. …Wait, are you talking about Marry Portor or Mila. Mila isn't a charter I own.

Oh, that last part I can answer. From what I learn about the Yellow King. His followers who see the yellow sign go crazy upon seeing it. However, those with an artistic mind won't be driven mad. Not at first. Their art improves if anything. So struggling artist will be able to draw masterpieces, play writers that have writers block, can write award winning novels in hours, tone deaf musicians can sing like an angle. Did you find it strange that Jaune mentioned he was a bad singer? But when he got on stage he could sing like a professional. He has seen the Yellow Symbol, and one day it's going to drive him eversible mad. But till that day he will become more and more talented in his arts. Like a cancer, question is when will I kill him. Today, tomorrow, maybe while he's sleeping, making love. Spending his grey days on the porch. It's going to happen it's only a question of when.

Eh, somewhere. I also have CCR Green River up my sleeve as well.

Wait, there was a movie called the Yellow Sign? Huh… neat.

Thanks for writing Pherix2003.

From gold crown dragon: *Shrugs. I don't know. Will do.

Thanks for writing gold crown dragon.

From Guest 1-6-14: Well, I never expected that. I feel like I should call you something to separate you from the rest of Guest. Garry? GuyGar? Tseu? Nah think I'll just say Garry. Right-O onto your comment. (Related to this story.)

Yep, I still love doing my references. Hell, every story I ever write has my iconic hat in them. (Did you find it here?) Sorry for the late reply, but I'm still working on another story. However, that one is almost done as well.

Thanks for writing Guest 1-6-14.

"Alright, with that done, I'm going to request the audience stay healthy and keep practicing social distancing. It's been a pain for some. (Me included.) But I rather like to continue some of these conversations over this fascinating story. So, with that said, please Fav and Fol the story. Leave a comment or question down below. This is Wombag sighni…" Before Wombag could finish, Weiss hits him lightly on the head. Then again and again.

"Um, Weiss. What are you doing?" Wombag asked as Weiss's hand keeps on going up and down. In a Moment of irritation Wombag grabs her wrist under his armpit. Giving it a tug, he expected her to be pulled into the limelight. Instead the entire arm comes out, with a very bloody stump on the end. Surprising Wombag as he slowly picks himself up.

"What in the… oh crap-baskets." Wombag mutters as he looks off screen. After a few moments a loud stomping noise can be heard followed by what can be described as a tall, grey skin tight creature with multiple limbs, and appendages. Its teeth disfigured in multiple rows, were still jagged and blood stained. As blood begins to pour out of its mouth it lets out a ghastly scream that sounds like a mixture of clicking a gurgling growl. It was enough to send Wombag to the ground before sprinting off in fear, while the creature gave chase. Knocking over the camera and ending the chapter.

End credit POV:

The view pulls closely on vast emptiness of space. As the view pulls to the side revealing the multiple sets of stars, the view then turns onto a planet with a shattered moon orbiting it. Remnant. Home to 1.8 million humans and Faunas. Recently, the world had suffered through civil and domestic attacks, but started the road to recovery. Shame that its too little too late. As it slowly spins around a shadow quickly fell upon it with the sounds of flutes playing. Flutes that did not give off the pleasant earthly sounds, rather it was Alien in origin and had an unnerving effect upon those who heard its alien like rhythm. As the flutes begin to get louder and more daunting, the planet soon found itself floating in an endless void of white before slowly fading. The world that had such potential faded from this plane of being. Like a dream that has ended. After a few moments, Remnant had faded forever more. So, with it was the hopes, dreams, ambitions of its people. All those who have lived and died on it disappeared… with the exception of a few.

With the planet gone, it seemed that there were easily a dozen specks that now floated in the blank void of eternity. The view pulls closer in to reveal that three of those specks was objects of great power. A staff, sword, and crown. Gifts from sibling god like entities. The other seven were a group of people that have been for the most part on opposing sides of a convolute war now made irrelevant. The most notable among the strange cast of friends and enemies was a pale and near demonic looking women, and a young boy with ever shifting eye. All ten floated in the void, with their eyes wide. Not in shock, but horror upon what they heard and witness. After a few moments the child spoke up.

"W-What… happened?" The child asked as his mind tried to correlate what has happened.