I don't own RWBY or Call of Cthulhu
Blackwater Creek, just outside of the woods
3rd POV
The scene opens up on the outskirts of the woods. Jaune and Trish had just exited the woods, horrified by what they saw. They headed back to report to the sheriff what they saw, but Jaune was distracted for a few moments as they walked over the dried river bed. He heard a voice calling out to him. Like before it sounded like his mother, with a loud heart beat echoing in his head.
"Jaune, (Bump, bump.) Jaune. Where are (Bump, bump.) you? My boy, my (Bump, bump.) sweat little boy. (Bump, bump.) Where are you? (Bump, bump.) I'm… scared." The voice called out. Jaune looked around but he knew that it can't be his mother. Yet it sounded so much like her. His eyes turned to the hills, north of the woods. He can't quite describe it, but it was as if something was drawing him towards it. Course before he could act upon this desire Trish called out to him.
"Oy! Don't zone out on me again. It's bad enough you had me walk through those woods. So don't think about asking me to go up a mountain searching for your girlfriend." Trish scolds, breaking Jaune's concentration.
"Hmm, oh sorry just um… admiring the view." Jaune lied before his eye begins to itch. As he rubs it he then remarks, "Also again she isn't my girlfriend!"
"Whatever. Let's just get out of this damn town." Trish said as she rolls her eyes.
Jaune gave a small huff but agreed. Yang was here but she couldn't been here for long. She might have moved on to Dunwich, perhaps to seek medical aid. Though he doubt it, he had no evidence to the contrary. The two head back to the car where Sheriff slim was out front. He was whittling away at a stick. They told the sheriff about the body they found. He seemed surprisingly calm, but he explains how many people go missing in those woods. He's only surprise one showed up in the trees. The two then head to their car, ready to leave this town behind when it sputtered. No matter how hard Trish twisted the car refused to start. Annoyed she left the driver seat and investigated the engine. Taking a closer look, she found that many wires were cut, and someone stuck a candy bar in the engine exhausted.
"Something wrong?" Sheriff slim asked?
"Yeah. Someone doesn't want us leaving this god forsaken town." Trish said in a huff of annoyance before slamming the hood shut. "No offense."
"None taken. I'll consider what you two kind folk saw left a sour impression of this here fine town." Sheriff Slim said kindly as he approaches the two. He then looked under the hood, taking note to the damage done to the car. "Hmm, seems someone did a number on your car."
"You wouldn't happen to know who?" Jaune asked as he get's out of the car.
"I've got a few hooligans in mind, but not without evidence." Sheriff Slim remarks.
"(Sigh) Fair… by chance this town has a mechanic, do you?" Trish asked.
"No we do not. Everything from here to Arkham is horse and buggy country. I can send for a repair man but it'll take awhile." Sheriff Slim said as he pulled out a crooked cigarette. "I recon you two don't have a place to stay while here? And we unfortunately don't have them fancy hotels either."
"So, we will be sleeping outside? (Sigh) Great, the weather doesn't look great. Recon we'll be getting rain." Trish said as she pinches the bridge of her nose.
"Hmm, yeah. I'd noticed a few cumulonimbus passing by. Recon there may be a storm coming tonight." Sheriff Slim said as he rub his head. "But I happen to know some folk who will take in folks for an evening or two for a few bills."
"Oh?" Jaune asked with some interest. He didn't get to explore the entire valley yet, if staying a few extra days means he can look for Yang he's alright with it.
"Yeah, the Jarvey farmstead. They offer traveling folks a place to rest for an evening or two. Breakfast included during working season. Don't see why they won't turn you down as someone gets to work on fixing your car."
"(Sigh) Where are they by chance?" Trish reluctantly asked.
"Head back to Arkham, take the first road heading north and follow it till you come to the split in the road. When you do, whatever you do, follow the road north. Don't take the road west or you end up on the Carmody farmstead." Sheriff Slim explained as he pulls out a cigarette. He lit it up before taking a drag. As he does, Jaune asked him why?
"Um, what's wrong with the Carmody farm?" Jaune asked.
"They don't take kindly to outsiders. Especially unannounced. Let's leave it at that." Sheriff slim remarks between his exhale and drag.
Confused jaune was about to asked when Trish pulled him aside. "Bootleggers. By the sound of it they may be pushing hooch and unless we got a pass from 'King' Solomon, I'd doubt they let us in."
"King who?" Jaune asked.
"Never mind. Just avoid them. Alright." Trish said before turning to the Sheriff. "Thank you for your advice. Should we return to town when the fellow comes to pick up our ride?"
"I'll send for you, but it may be a day or two before then. Till then have a nice night you two." Sheriff Slim said with a nod.
The two thank them before walking away. Before Jaune followed Trish for a long trip north he couldn't help but noticed a pair of pliers sticking out of the back pocket of the sheriff. He was to far away to ask why he was caring a heavy-duty tool, but close enough to see them shuffle in his back pocket. The two followed the sheriffs' instructions, following the road out of the shanty town as the scene pulls up to the mid-day sun. The sun then set as storm clouds formed in the sky before pulling down.
An hour later at the Jarvey farmstead.
After walking for an hour, they came upon the Jarvey farmstead. It was a quaint little home with fields of wheat growing in the arcades of fields. However, something seemed to be wrong, as most of the farm hands weren't attending the wheat fields but rather burning livestock. Pigs with horrific black blisters and boils. Lay on the fire, burning away. It seems the plague from town had moved on to the animals. As they approach, a young man of Hispanic origins approached the two.
"Howdy, I'd normally greet you in a more friendlier of terms but we had to put down a lot of our livestock. May I ask who you two are?" The young man asked as he brandish a double barrel in a serious pose.
"Um, I'm Jaune. This is Trish. We were told that this farmhouses strangers in need of shelter? Our car was sabotage. Not sure by who. But Sheriff Slim told us that this farm can offer a night or two. We got money if you want it." Jaune said as he pulls out his wallet but was stopped by the young man.
"O'l Slim sent you? Hmm alright. You two seem like nice folks, though I don't decide who stays or go on this here farm. My ma and pa will have the last say but I can bring you to them." The young lad said as he shoulders his shotgun. He turns and escorted the two to two old couple on the porch. The old woman was relatively plum, with her haired tied in a bun. She looked like an apt description of someone's grandmother. The man next to him had a corn cob pipe in his mouth, staring down with a squint that would intimidate anyone. "Ma, Pa. Got some city slickers looking for a place to stay."
"Oh wonderful. Hello dearies. How may I help you?" The woman said.
"We just need a place to stay for a few days. We can pay for it." Jaune said as he pulls out his wallet only to be stopped by the old man when he raised his hand.
"It's alright son. You look like you walked some miles. While we do need the money fraid we only have room for one. Someone going to sleep in the Barn. Not sure if it should be you on the account of your condition or your girl." The old man said as he points to Jaune's leg with his pipe.
"Oh, I'm fine with sleeping in the barn. Slept worst then in a barn said as he pats his braced leg.
"And I ain't his girl. I just work for him and keep him out of trouble." Trish added with some annoyance.
"Well, seems trouble sadly came looking. Otherwise you wouldn't have walked up here now." The old man said with a smile before stretching. He then said, I'm Malcomb. You met my son Theodor, and this is my lovely wife Edith."
"Please meeting you two." Edith said with a nod.
"Likewise I'm Jaune, and this is Trish." Jaune introduced.
"Well, Jaune. It's two dollars a night but if you help out with some chores in the morning we'll bring it down to one and toss in a free breakfast." Malcomb said as he takes a drag while extending his arm down from the porch for Jaune to shake.
"Sounds fair." Jaune said as he shakes his hand.
"Well then. Theodor why not take Jaune here to the barn while your ma show, Trish here her room for the evening." Malcomb said before noticing something in the fields. "Um if you excuse me. Believe my neighbor wants something."
Jaune and Trish watches as the old man got off his porch but not before taking his son's double barrel. He then walks to the fields very nervously with the shotgun at the ready. Before either Jaune or Trish could ask, they were quickly pulled apart by Theodor and Edith. Theodor brought Jaune down to the barn, while Edith brought Trish upstairs. As Jaune and Theodor heads for the barn he offered Jaune a smoke to which he declined. Taking a moment to light up the puff Jaune asked what was going on with the pigs.
"Hmmm, know that strange disease that hit town? Well while we have yet to catch it our live stock was not. Shame too since o'l pa and ma have been looking to see them pigs as well." Theodor explains as he takes a drag.
"Oh… sorry to hear about that." Jaune remarks.
"Eh not your fault. Though truth be told if this plague was happening elsewhere, it would be downright biblical. A week ago, Pa found one of the Carmody brothers out along our wheat. Not sure what he saw but claimed it was downright witchcraft. Bugs and rats glued to his body like they were kin. Downright apocalyptic if you ask me." Theodor explains before spotting an older fella working by the shed. "Ah, Old Pete. How has the work been going?"
"Whelaywer wawking nhew fielswhe ayy awfool rig row-dent doncum-up. Aydon fri swated-it here withtheh rake but-thay ...err dam thinggon had frends. Sceered meov tillie ay don gotthem dog-ayn' eve thenhey done-foughtbak. O'l bessy will-E itching atthem chompers faw mownthsnow." Old Pete explains before spitting something out of his mouth. Looked like tobacco but was darker and a bit of pus but it was the strange mumbling that caught Jaune off guard.
"What?" Jaune asked with a perplex look on his face.
"He said that he had to deal with some rodents. Bit the family and stray dogs but they are gone." Theodor translated only for Old Pete to nod as he spat more gunk out of his mouth.
Theodor then brings Jaune inside to show him where he will be sleeping. Meanwhile inside the house Edith showed Trish to her room. It was a bit cramped but there was a single bed. Trish thanks Edith for the hospitality and she was left alone. Feeling sore she relaxes on the bed only to feel something hard under her head. Pulling the pillow aside she found a prosthetic foot. It had a strange smelling aroma almost like over ripe fruit. As she inspects it she noticed an unmarked book between the bed and the bedside drawer. She opened to the last page and read it quietly.
The Indian tribe of backwoods Massachusetts.
While there are many who once claim this land long before the European settlement. One tribe who's origins is left in much obscurity. Is 'Wskinnossis Mkazwi Ki' or roughly translating 'The children of the black Earth tribe.' Of all the people of the Miskatonic Valley, the most mysterious and feared was the Children of the Black Earth. They have not been seen since colonial days, but stories of them still live on in folklore. While some of the stories of Wskinnossis Mkazwi Ki no doubt have their basis in fact, many have doubtless been embellished by the passage of time or tainted by native superstition.
The assertion that the tribe would conduct raids and take captives who they would then offer up as sacrifices to their great spirits is richly plausible. While human sacrifice among the Indian peoples is a rarity, the evil reputation and reported depravity of the Wskinnossis Mkazwi Ki was the cause of their shunning by all neighboring tribes, and these tales of murder simply formed part of this tapestry. Their ferocity and bloodlust is also the most likely root of the reputation of their warriors as never dying on the battlefield and being immune to all mortal weapons.
Where their legend becomes pure fancy is in the detail of the tribe being ruled by an undying council of elders, who were never seen outside their sacred cave. The elders were spoken of as wise and terrible, with great magic and fits of healing. Similar fanatic is the description of the tribe as "brothers to snakes and to the vermin of the fields"
No stories or legends survive to explain the disappearance of the tribe, but the most likely explanations remain that they were either exterminated by either their neighbors or Colonial settlers, or that exposure to civilizing influences led to their acceptance and absorption into the larger tribes of the valley.
Rolling her eyes she set's down the book but as she does a note slid out to her feet. Leaning over she picked it up and read the line to herself. What she found gave her the shivers.
February 28th 1925
My dear McTavish,
I wish I knew where to begin. It appears my suspicions were correct, and Blackwater Creek is indeed built upon the former site of Cade's Rest. I have discovered artifacts that give every indication of an early Colonial settlement and remains which there is so much more here, though, so much more than I hear my mother sometimes. I know her voice. She's dead, but I hear her.
The cave is not just a myth. Cade tried to bury it, but she is there and she never died.
I have procured some dynamite and I aim to open up the cave as soon as this damnable storm ends. Even the wind sounds like her.
She needs me. I must free her. Good forgive me.
"Cave? What cave?" Trish asked herself aloud only for lighting to strike off in the distance. Spooking her. "Oh mother of god… Jesus can this backwater shite hole get any more creepy?"
"I wouldn't say it's creepy." Edith said behind Trish spoking her again.
"Jesus almighty!" Trish snapped, earning a semi disapproval look from Edith. "Sorry but I'm a bit spooked is all. Found that under my pillow." Trish said as she points to the leg.
"My, that's Professor Roades leg. I'd wonder how this got in here." Edith pondered as she grabs it.
"Who?" Trish asked.
"A professor from that college in Arkham. He and his students came up to do some digging near the woods south of town." Edith recalled.
"Huh, I think me and the boy passed by it when looking for her friend." Trish recalls.
"Oh, was she one of the students? They stayed her for a time." Edith asked.
"Not likely she came this way a few days ago." Trish said earing a 'huh' from Eda. "Anyways does the professor always carry around a spare foot? Is it a good luck charm or something?"
"No. He lost his right leg in the war. But last I saw of him he was walking right out my door. I wondered how this got here?" Edith said as she scratches her chin.
Trish thought about it for a few moments when suddenly another lighting bolt struck freaking her out. Seeing that Trish was rather jumpy Edith deciding to give her some space. Leaving the room as rain begins to pour. Trish decided to end the day there. As she gets herself cozy in bed the scene cut's to Jaune.
The barn kept the water out but the racket it made with the storm didn't help. Though to be honest he felt like he was being watched. He shift and struggled to sleep with that feeling. It took him nearly until two and by then it was due to the exhaustion of it all rather then his attempt. As he somber off to sleep he had a strange dream. In it he see's himself back home. It was deprived of anyone, yet he hears his mother calling for him. After wandering around he heard her from the basement.
"Jaune, (Bump, bump.) Jaune. Where are (Bump, bump.) you? My boy, my (Bump, bump.) sweat little boy. (Bump, bump.) Where are you? (Bump, bump.) I'm… scared." The voice called out. Quickly heading downstairs he traveled down into the dark. As his eye adjusted he found himself in a cave. Looking around he found the stairs up had disappeared. Looking around he heard his mother voice again. Turning around Jaune goes silent in horror. What he saw he couldn't describe. A fusion of so much flesh… hundreds of faces pressing against the grotesque body… and all of them looked like his mother. "There you (Bump, bump.) are. My boy. (Bump, bump.) My sweat (Bump, bump.) little (Bump, bump.) boy. Oh how (Bump, bump.) I missed you. Come (Bump, bump.) give your (Bump, bump.) mother a hug."
Jaune screamed in horror before running away but he didn't get far. In front of him was Yang. Sickly she stood there but before he could do anything she grabbed him by the throat. She lifted him off the ground by his neck. Staring on she looked up, revealing his mothers face. Twisted like the blob of flesh hundreds of faces push out against her body. All looking like his mother. Yang then spoke in his mothers own voice. All while the sound of that heart beats. "My boy. (Bump, bump.) My sweat (Bump, bump.) little (Bump, bump.) boy. Come. (Bump, bump.) Give your (Bump, bump.) Mother a kiss. (Bump, bump.) I wish to be with (Bump, bump.) you… (Bump, bump.) forever."
She leans in close as her body morphs into the blob. Jaune could only scream as he was absorbed into the blob. It was pure darkness before a loud scream can be heard. Jaune wakes up in a cold sweat, looking around in terror as he tried to remember that he was in a barn, not a nightmare fueled cave. As he calms himself down he heard it. A swine howling loudly followed by screams of terror. Quickly picking himself up he had to force the bard window open to see what the hell was going on.
Out on the lawn old Pete was screaming madly. He was unable to hear him from the lighting and thunder that came in and out like a frenzy. However he noticed off in the distance Theodor and Malcomb racing over to the pig pen with shotguns in hand Malcomb's hand. At the pig pen something… big was trying to break out. Acting quickly Jaune retrieved his can and went to investigate. Down by the pig pen a boar that was named Brutus was trying to break out. The Jarvey prize boar had also came down with this strange infection. Hoping that whatever caused it they can cure and the pig would make some money for the farm. But something got the oversize boar upset. He'd never acted like this during a rainstorm. Fearing for the safety of the family or the unfortunate souls that are nearby Malcomb made the decision to put him down. Theodor was trying to calm him down. However the pig got more unrulily and finally Malcomb decided to send this one to the market. He raised the double barrel and takes aim at the frantic pig. He took a shot off but missed. The boar broke free of the pin and rammed into him. The boar proceed to gore him, tearing away at his innards with it's tusk before turning on Theodor. It let's out a haunting whine before charging at Theodor. Before trampling him underfoot Jaune quickly tackled him to the side just before it could Jaune tackled him out of the way.
"Go, get your father to safety. I got this big bad piggy." Jaune said as he pulls Crocea Mors out of his cane.
Theodor didn't respond but gave a simple nod before racing to his father. Meanwhile the pig begins circling Jaune, but he kept his guard up. Just like how Pyrrha taught him. The creature then charged at Jaune who simply side stepped it. He had faced Boarbatusks before. This oversize pig was at best a crippled infinite on it's death bed compared to a young Boarbatuck. He easily avoided the pig with finesse, all while slashing at it's underbelly. Eventually Brutus put it's strength to deliver a last attack. Course Jaune side stepped the beast and relieved it of it's head.
"(Sigh) That'll do pig. That'll do." Jaune said as he flicks the blood from his sword only to remember Malcomb. He quickly sheaths his sword and races over to the front porch where Edith and Trish were. Assisting Malcomb up the stairs with Theodor. He was bleeding bad and he needed a doctor. Trish put her IRA training to use and begin patching him as best as she can. Jaune was about to check on them when he noticed Old Pete whimpering on the front lawn. Blacken puss like tears rolled down his face. Turning to Jaune the old man blubbers something incoherently.
"MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!" He cried out at the top of his lungs at the night sky. As Jaune approaches he noticed that strange black puss leaking from the side of his lip. He got close enough that Old Pete noticed him. Looking over at him with faded eyes he said in a hauntingly familiar voice. "M̻̝̺̌̉̉́́͂͂̋͜͜A̴̢͍̣̭͇͇̫̣̮̳̿́́̆̈͌̌̈͑̄̓̏́͜͜͝M̵̭̮̤͍̎͊͆̂̃̀͛͒̔̚͝À̵͓͕̰͊̇̈́̍͊̿̓̆̉̏͘͝͠!̴̡̮̙̯̮̈́̋!̶͎̪̼̻͈̬̮̟͔̣̙̌̌̌̃̉̆͊̃̂̈́̚͘ͅ!̷͖̍̽̃͛̄̿̂̆̽͜ ̶̢̘̫̳̘͕̟͙̖̫͚̭͍͓͗̽̽͜͝Ṃ̀͆͒̀͋̅͑̕͝Ą̶̡̢̖̜͎̣̣̑͌͐̆͆̑͆̈́̎̚͝͝M̵̧̩͍̹͎̖̗̯̥̗̮̜͈̺͐͐̒̈̅̚A̷̤̤͇̯̼̼̰̩̣̰̞̱̭̿͑̄̓͆̉́͋̈̊̒̾!̴̡̖̟͈̣̭̼̼͇̭̘͉̆͜ͅ!̵̜̯̯͚͇̣̞͕̹̦̪̈́͗͌̾ͅ!̷̡̢̳̮̖͈̳̤̻̌̓͐́̒̓̌͌̀͠͝ ̶͇͖͓͆̐̑̑̔͑̃̊̓̈̚̕͝ͅM̶̧̖̲͈̮̲̅͛̾̿̀͑̍̄̂̏͜͝ͅẠ̴̟̗̠͙͇̝͔̍͋͐͌̓̾͋͌̍̿̍͋͌̕͜ͅM̘̝̌̓̈́̏̀͒̔̔̆́͛̕͝Ą̵͕̜͇̪̜̗̄̓̋͛̿̉̓͗̾̑͘͝!̶̛̹̞̬́̀̊͋̽̔̇̍̆!̶͖̦̤̬͚͍̫͍͚́̀̀̃ͅ!̧̻͚̙̟̋̇͑̌̒̅̽͋͛̔̚"̧̣̳̼͕̻͙ ̮̰̞̖̝͍̳̺̪͈̥̠̃̈́̌͋͑̅̏͒̑͋͝
"…Yang?" Jaune hushed in a low tone of horror. Old Pete called out to his mother in a voice that was undeniable Yangs voice. It was a bit shaky but it Yangs voice. Suddenly he collapsed on the ground. Choking on that black puss. "Hey, hey! Don't die on me! Where is she! Where is Yang!"
This was all in vain as he asphyxiated in a matter of moments. Jaune shouted for him not to die but he croaked his last. As he shook the now dead body of Old Pete Trish came over to Jaune. "Jaune the Feck you think your doing?"
"Old Pete. He… he talked in Yang's voice. He got to know something." Jaune explained as he tries to shake the old man, but was stopped by Trish.
"Jaune. He's dead." Trish informed before questioning what Jaune said. "Also how can he talk like Yang? From what I got he talk more mumbles then sentences."
"Well he did…" Jaune said defeated before quickly searching the body. Much to Trish's disapproval.
"Seriously. He isn't even dead yet." Trish criticizes. Ignoring her complaint Jaune searched the body, looking for any clues to why he was acting so strange. That's when he pulled it out a small dirty bottle. Inside was an amber color that sloshed around inside. Illuminated by the lightning strikes Jaune uncorked it only for a horrible sent to hit his nose.
"Ugh, it smell like that rotten fruit in town." Jaune groans as he covers his nose. As he does Trish takes the bottle and inspects it closely. "What in Monty's name is it."
"It's whiskey." Trish said as she puts down the bottle. Looking down at Pete's dead body, she begins to wonder, saying aloud. "Where the hell would they get Whiskey?"
"Carmody brothers." Eidith said. The two turn to her as she stood with a traumatized look plastered on her once sweat face.
"Those bastards are the only one's who would make that junk." Suddenly a flash of lighting hits causing the scene to light up. Causing the scene to shift to a black and white view.
A few days prior (in Black and white flashback)
As the lighting subsided it revealed a black and light stormy night. Though not as violent as the storm a few days in the future. Crossing over dry mud bed to a farmstead with healthy looking grain was Schmidt and Yang. Though something was different. Schmidt had more pep in his step. His injuries had completely healed. He could breath easily, his left cheek was smooth and his ears didn't had a low ringing. Yang however felt something off in her right arm. She chalked it up to a phantom itch but in truth it felt more like growing pains if anything. Neither one talked about it, as they were more stunned by the miracle cure to their bodies. Only conclusion they had was that it must be the whiskey. They could make a fortune with miracle cure whiskey but the two know fully well stuff like this don't come cheap; And money ain't always the price. Crossing the mud bed they came to a cornfield with a shabby house on the other side.
Crossing it, Yang couldn't help but feel like the two were being watched. Something in the corn was watching them. Every time she tried to get a good look at whatever it is, something in the fields would obscure her view. A hoard of field rats, huge bugs, or a hissing snake constantly distracts her from getting a clear view of whatever was in the field. Despite failing to see what was in the corn she constantly attempted to, but this time was distracted by Schmidt when he called her.
"Hey Yang! Come on. Last thing we want is to snoop around like rats in the trenches!" Schmidt called out. Yang reluctantly followed, unaware that something tried to grab her hair as she turned around. The two walked up to the door of the old farm house and Schmidt knocked on the door. He then pulled Yang back before explaining, "Look, we had a long day but it's important we don't give ourselves away. We are strangers and what they do is illegal. So let me do all the talking and don't do anything that might make them feel threatened."
"Don't look threatening… Sure, how hard can that be?" Yang remarks sarcastically. Just then the door slams open and a double barrel was stuffed in Schmidt's face. A raspy hick voice then called out.
"Who are you and why I shouldn't blow your damn faces over the ground!" The man shouted as he sticks the double barrel in Schmidt's face. Almost on Instinctively Yang snatches the double barrel and points it at the man. This caused the Cornfield rodents to oddly race out of the fields toward her. But before she noticed Schmidt got between her and the stranger.
"Woah. Easy there. Remember what I said." Schmidt scolded as he takes the shotgun from her. He removes the shells before handing it back to the man. All while he said, "Don't look threatening. Now, I presume you're the Carmody, the oldest one yes?"
"No, he ain't and certainly ain't." A man dressed in a fine three-piece suit said as he walked forward. He stood out like a sore thumb compared to the door man. Surprisingly handsome with an observant glair. He pushes the man aside before leaning against the door frame. "I am Damian Carmody. To whom is standing on my door step at this ungodly hour?"
"Schmidt. Jacob Schmidt. This is Yang." Schmidt replies.
"Huh, the infamous, Iron Arm Long. On my door step. I take it that we are breathing because your looking to cut a deal?" Damian asked.
"Something like that Can we come in?" Yang asked as the rain begins to fall.
The young man gives a nod before allowing the two inside. As they do, a low growl can be heard from the corn field. Back inside Schmidt and Yang were searched for any and all weapons before sated at a table. The man offered the two a seat and his man brought over a jug of whiskey with three cups.
"Now, my mama, god rest her soul. Said to never trust a man who couldn't hold his liquor. Seeing you came out this way. Might as well listen to what you have to say. But if you so much as puke the hail marry here I'll plug you and the girl and hand your stiffs to the King." Damian offered as he pours the three a glass. Yang looks down hesitantly at the whiskey. She was about to take it when Schmidt snatches the glass and threw it back before his.
"Fair. But let's not get her involved. Not unless you want one real angry drunk on your hands. Believe me. That ain't a fight worth picking." Schmidt said as he pushes his mug forward.
"Hmm, fair." Damian said before finishing his mug and proceeded to pour a new round. "Now. Why are two so far from home? Canuck whiskey ain't doing it for Chicago no more?"
"No, just helping a friend in Arkham. She has been working well with Capone when smuggling imported wines. Along with that she has been working well with Rothstein and his protégé Lucania." Schmidt said as he throws the drink back.
"Ah… well now you got me interest. Been meaning to peddle my goods. Charlie was good but getting it out west? Keep talking and I might set you up with a set of wheels with the first batch on the house." Damian said with a smile. Though it was a cold and snake like. Schmidt could feel what the whiskey is doing to him. Worming its way under his skin. Experiencing first hand what this whiskey can do to a fellow, he knew there was some kind of cost. Damian then went on as he listens carefully. "See while back two fellows from New York came up to buy some of my product. Strange fellows, dressed in purple and Yellow. Claimed that they needed but a jar to help some kid. Claimed it had strange potency that can stave off some kind of madness. Not sure the hell they were talking about but they paid pretty well. In gold no less. Helped pay for a lot of things around here."
As he rattled on about the business, Schmidt gives a nod directed at Yang. She nodded and went into her lost incent song and dance routine. She gets up to excuse herself to use the shitter. Giving a nod, Schmidt directed Damian's attention by questioning Damian about the whiskey under the guise of high clientele. Poking around the conversation without giving away knowing about the healing medications of the whiskey. Yang heads towards the bathroom but heard something shuffling down in the basement. Looking around was made sure nobody spotted her before quietly entering the basement. She slowly moved down before removing her glove. Flicking her metallic finger, the light from her prosthetic finger illuminated the room. Revealing multiple sets of wooden barrels, and bathtubs filled with whiskey. Some still fermenting. She had to cover her nose as the mixture of sweet ripen yet rotting fruit smell hits her nose. It was stronger then in town, in the fields, and even when she drank the accursed booze.
"Ugh, the hell is that smell." Yang said as she pinches her nose as the smell got louder. Just then she turned around to find a man bound in chains behind her. His appearance was utterly horrifying. His flesh looked bloated like a body pulled from the river. His hair secreted an oily substance that reeked. And his poor face. Dear good it was covered in boils. So many boils, black puss streaming out like sweat on a pig. The sight was so horrifying she couldn't help but scream in horror at the sight of such a poor man. Falling on her back, the man could only reach out but only able to scrape at her boot. Noticing his right leg was that of a goat.
He begged in a slurred and bloated voice much to Yang's horror. "PPPPlllllleeeeasss… mama calllslllslsss… ssssssshhhhhheeeee hhheeeeeves heeeeeelllllppppp. MMMMMMyyyyywwwwaaa wwwwwivvvveee cccccccaaaaaannnnntttttt-tttttttaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkeeee hhhhhhhhhhiiiiiivvvv nnnnnnnnnnooooooo mmmmmmmmmmmmmmooooooorrreeee."
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU!" Yang screams out in horror as she stammered to her feet. Just then she heard the sound of an old shotgun cocking behind her. Seems one of the thugs had heard her.
"It's none of your business nosy bitch." He said as he press the barrel hard against the back of her head. Seeing the corpse like man in chains, the freaky whiskey, a stupid voice claiming to be her mom, and a dirty moonshining jay touched her hair with a shotgun, it was safe to say she was livid. Before the man could fire, she already grabbed the barrel and twisted it upward. Just as he pulls the trigger the shell shot up, putting a hole in the floorboards above. Looking on in astonishment he mutters allowed. "How in the hell?"
"None of your business." Yang retorts before delivering an epic uppercut that sent the man flying up into the hole above.
Upstairs Schmidt and Damian talked about the process. As Damian was explaining how he and his currently absent big brother built a damn after a nearby cave was open. The water really helped fertilized the corn. As they talked, a shotgun blast blew through the table. Spooking both men. Confused they looked down only for one of Damian's thugs to be shot up. He groaned for a moment before falling unconscious. The two men looked at one another before Damian goes for a derringer. However, Schmidt's military training kicked in. Acting quick he threw the table up, giving him cover to grab his weapon. Taking another shot, he narrowly missed Schmidt's head. Taking a piece of his left ear. While he did flinch in pain the piece of flesh begin mending itself.
Schmidt grabs his pistol and takes a few shots off at Damian. He dived into the kitchen avoiding the gun shots. Schmidt reloaded his pistol and took out his knife. Rushing over to the door he was about to open it when he noticed something. Shadows from the other room. Damian was on the other side, probably waiting for Schmidt to enter. Looking around he spotted an empty bottle. Grabbing it he kneeled down. Taking a few breaths before sidestepped the door and throwing the bottle inside. A shot rang off as the bottle broke, taking advantage Schmidt dived in and open fire. He missed Damian but he was none the less forced to hide. The two men gasped for air as they reloaded there weapons.
"Knew I shouldn't had trusted the word of a Catholic whore." Damian said as he pats himself down for any shells. "How much did that dago paid you? I guarantee it ain't worth the trouble when I'm done with you."
"It ain't about the money you Bumpkin hick! I saw what your whiskey did and I came for answers. Seems I'll be finding them off your corpse!" Schmidt snapped as he used his knifes reflection to look behind him. Damian rolled his eyes when he spotted a jar of the whiskey. An evil smirk formed on his face.
"Well, if you want to know. You have to ask my brother." He said as he grabs the bottle. "Don't get up, he'll be here soon."
"Well, let's just skip the formalities." Schmidt said as he gets ready to go over the barricade.
"Couldn't say it any better myself." Damian said with a toothy grin.
There was a brief moment of intensity, before the two jumped out of there barricade. They shot at one another Schmidt hitting Damian in the arm but was smacked by a glass bottle. Whiskey covered him, stinging his eyes and burning the wounds caused by the shards of glass. The pain blinded him long enough for Damian to bash him over the head with his shotgun. Struggling to recover, Damian didn't take the chance to kill Schmidt. Rather he grabbed another bottle and uncorked the bottle. Pouring it down on his head. Once done he points his shotgun at Schmidt and was about to take a shot at his leg when he was blasted out the backdoor. Looking up Schmidt saw Yang holding a sawed off in hand.
"Can't leave you to fight your own battles anymore Schmidtty?" Yang said sarcastically as she helps him to his feet.
"hmm. Whiskey got me acting sloppy." Schmidt said as he rubs the back of his head.
"Uh huh. Right." Yang said with a smirk. That's when they heard painful coughing. Looking out, it seem Damian was still alive. Annoyed, Schmidt picks up his cold and walks outside.
Damian gasped and wheezed in agony as he tries to crawl away. However Schmidt was standing over him. He pulls back the hammer, wanting the bastard to look him in the eye before he plugs one between the eyes. Course before he could get a shot, a rather large cockroach flew into his gun. Jamming itself between the firing pin and hammer. The storm got stronger, with rain falling down harder and bolts of lighting flashing more intensely in the night sky. However a crackle can be heard from Damian. As he laughs a swarm of rats and oversize insects begin swarming out to the two. Nipping at them, all while a low growl can be heard.
"The hell is that?" Yang asked as she see's a figure in the shadow.
"That there be my brother. Normally he's shy about girls. But for a tall blonde? Heh I think he'll risk it. After all, your more his type." Damian said with a crooked smile before throwing an open flask at her, Covering her with whiskey. Schmidt then stomped down on his face rendering him unconscious as he and Yang turned to the corn fields. Just then something emerges from the corn. Something… repulsive. But above all else. It was angry. Howling something horrible it charges towards the two as the scene goes dark.
Hello everybody… well… fuck me that went bad. Jaune and Trish are now stranded, Jaune is hearing voices that sounds like his mama. And something weird is going on with the whiskey. Meanwhile Yang and Schmidt has tracked down to the distillers of this cursed spirit. But it seems they found more question then answer. Perhaps one of the readers can put together what will happen next before the final chapter. Now, onto comment and questions.
From Black Cross0: Oh she did… but it seems territorial. I'd be more worried about who else she pissed off.
Whiskey, the cause and solution of life's problems.
… Maybe. (And if not she is going to wish she was.)
Thanks for writing Black Cross0.
From Carre: 1A. I know. Let's say I want you to keep guessing.
1B. Yep… So nothing really changes. (According to AlternateHistoryHub) Excluding the fact that he is funding multiple communist coups around the world. (Might face off against Nora. Should be fun Workers of the world vs Democratically threatening queen of the castle.)
1C. Good enough. Point being they were cheap shows of cat's boxing one another for a nickel.
1D. Heh. Not exactly. They may look like tree's but they ain't trees. (None the less get the chainsaw and get Groovy on them.)
2A. Oh they don't have a jail. They just lynch the poor fool and ditch there body in the nearby shallow grave.
2B. Most of the time she punches the person out the window. (It's like a sixth sense. Also those who do touch her hair don't live for very long. In fact they still call the death of the purple mob the "They Touched Yangs hair Massacre." On the east side.)
2C. Nothing much, Corn, barley, oat, your/my/his/her/ mom, Water, and some freshly plucked fruit for flavor.
3. Will do.
Thanks for writing Carre.
From Crimson Weresloth: Oh, they ain't trees. My recommendation. Get a chainsaw and get groovy.
Thanks for writing Crimson Weresloth.
Alright, now I look forward to the next chapter. Will Jaune Find Yang? Did Schmidt and Yang find something best left alone? Could things get any worst? Find out next time. Till then; please Fav and Fol the story. Leave a comment or question bellow and I'll get back to you. Till then this is Wombag1786 signing off.