I don't own RWBY or Call of Cthulhu
In the Seirra Navadas, along the Donnor Pass, California
August 12 1924 (10 days prior to Amidst The Ancient Tree's)
3rd POV
The scene opens up on the train car. Looking on from one of the few windows that wasn't smashed was Weiss. Standing in a donated fur coat holding Myrtenaster in hand. She had retrieved from the Pinkertons, or rather Fausta had after her threats. Everyone was shook up by what had happened. While majority of the passengers managed to evade the onslaught of wild men that attacked under the cover of the snow storm, those close to first class or first class in general were not so lucky. About twenty-one passengers, fourteen train staff, and five Pinkertons Agents were killed with an additional forty injured or defiled. Then there were those who were unaccounted for. Roughly twenty three Men, Women, and Children were missing. No doubted brought down to the lake bellow.
Weiss continues to stare down at the lake, frozen over but seemingly inviting. That's where she last saw it. The thing that hid in the blur frenzy of the snow storm. What called those wild men away. She couldn't shake the vague image from her head, almost a haunting yet wildish calling that shivers down her spine. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open. In steps Mr. Philips. Shuddering as he wears a blanket around his body to keep warm.
"I just finish talking with the loco pilot. The locomotive is banged up from what those… men, or if you can even call them that. Martense family if I had to guess by the state of their feral nature. But none the less this train should be ready to leave for Reno in two or so hours. Hopefully the snow won't slow down the process." Mr. Philips said as adjust the blanket over him.
"Martense family?" Weiss asked with a raised brow. "I heard Ms. Winchester mention that name once. Can't say I ever heard of them."
"Oh, more of a local legend as they were the stuff of gossip out east in the Catskills." Mr. Philips explains as he thinks back to the summer of 21. "Supposedly they were a Dutch family that lived in isolation since the Second Anglo Dutch war. Centuries of isolation and inbreeding led to their spawn becoming these deformed beasts that stalked the old family mansion. Was something to behold by the authorities who were sent to investigate the strange disappearance. Guess Ms. Winchester was one of them. Suppose the similarity between these men and the Martense is rather similar. Least in behavior, I think the Martense were far more grotesque then that attacked us."
"Oh… lovely." Weiss said as she turned back to the lake.
"So you're suggesting these… brutes are inbred neanderthal?"
"Well… given our current location to Donors lake. I'd say that would be a fair estimate. Of the forty seven who ventured up here only five made it back down. It's possible some survived and disappeared into the blinding snow." Philip's theorized as he stroke his chin. Weiss gave a nod as she continued staring down at the frozen lake. Theirs something off about this whole mess. First there was the strange storm followed by the Rouge Pinkertons. Now this connection to her childhood nightmare and these wild men. Something was just off and with a resolution she made up her mind. She lets out a low hum before walking off. Philip's inquiring "Where you going?"
"To get to the bottom of this." Weiss responds back cryptically.
10 minutes later
Weiss originally planned on heading down by herself. However a number of people refused to let her. As a compromise she was accompanied by three Pinkertons, two Conductors, five armed passengers. Fausta And Philip's. They were sufficiently armed. With many Pinkertons dead or injured their firearms were handed out along with the trains commissioned double barrels or the rare few civilians who had a firearm on them. In total they formed an impressive posse of eleven including Weiss. They marched down to the Lake, or where they all saw the wild men had vanished. The wind made it difficult to find the tracks of these savages but it didn't take too to much looking as a cave was found at the edge of the lake. Seeming leading beneath the lake down into a snow filled cavern. Entering this cave felt… unnerving. If the lake itself wasn't frozen then the water would have flooded it. Yet for some rather unusual anomaly the water seemed to have frozen completely, forming an icy roof that allowed for passage deep beneath the lake's surface. Though an amazement of natural molding, an air of unease can be felt as a cold draft blew not down but up and out of the cave. As though something unnaturally cold was excessing a cold chill up and out of the cave. Bundling up as best as they can the group of eleven moved down into the cave.
As they do, the walls of this cave became less jagged and smoother. As though someone had built a wall of ice with machine like precision, though to Weiss she recognized that the walls were far too perfect for any machine on this world. Comb over with the fact that the air was getting so cold that she could feel her lungs becoming raggedy from the cold air she breathed. The group begins to shiver just then came to a strange Aztec like structure at the bottom of the cave. The structure was almost mystical with a strange wave of warmth emulating from this gate like structure; forming a mist like barrier that almost scientifically impossibly remain still in between the stone structure.
As though that wasn't worrisome as is. There seemed to be a large trail of blood at the base of the structure. Too fresh for some of the group. Mumbles among the group with majority of the civilians deciding to head back out of terror. The rest stood gossiping at the strange unearthly structure. Philip's was the only one who showed some form of interest in the Ancient artifact.
"Fascinating… truly fascinating." Philips said as he pulls out his notebook dotting some reference and sketches from the structures inscribed hieroglyphics.
"Any of this makes sense to you Canuck?" Fausta asked as she wrapped the blanket tightly around her.
"Sort of. I can recognize the writings origins but the inscription itself is going to take days if not weeks to transcribe. Some of these hieroglyphs are unusual in depiction of Itztlacoliuhqui." Philips said as he points to the mural imprinted on the archways of the gate.
"Itztlac-lo que sea (Itztlac-whatever the hell) the same one that fancy knife you and Reina de hielo were bidding for in the auction house?" Fausta asked with a raised brow.
"Huh, the very same. What a strange coincidence but given how the wild men seemed to chant an obscure name of the Aztec god perhaps that's the reason why they raided the train. Though how they learn about it given their gruesome injuries?" Philip's mumbles to himself as he was to focused on sketching the archways queer design then on the horrific implication. One that Fausta who seemed more aware of then him.
"Si… coincidence." Fausta remarks uncomfortably as she slowly backs up to whisper with Weiss.
"Hola, princesa de las nieves. Tengo un mal presentimiento sobre todo esto. Recuerdo aquello en Huntsville con ese extraño... Todavía no estoy seguro de qué es, pero casi nos mata. El punto es que estoy recibiendo algunas vibraciones similares a esa. Y no me gusta." (Hey, Snow princess. I have a bad feeling about all of this. Remember back in Huntsville with that strange... I'm still not sure what it is but it nearly killed us. Point is I'm getting some vibes similar to that. And I don't like it.) Fausta whispers to Weiss, not trying to gain the attention of the few who remain within the cave. However Weiss seemed focus on this strange gate. As Fausta tries to gain Weiss attention, Weiss was hearing something, from beyond the ghostly winds blowing through the gate. No… it was carried on the winds.
Ṁ̷̱͈͉̌̍͐̀͒̊̅̎̚͝g̴͖̭̼̩̠͊̓͌͝g̴̫̼͙͎̣̋̀͘͠ȯ̶̤̣̣̃͛͝k̸̢̨̧̻͓̟̻̝̲͕̼͋̾á̵̩̭̠͇̊͒͋̈̍̇̄̅̚͝'̸̧̺̮̫̰̯̺̥̑̐ͅä̶͍̟́í̵̡̥͓̙̼̯̺̈́̈́̏͗̊̎̓͛̚͝ ̵̯̭̹̮̘̓̿̑̈́̕y̴͎̲̓͜a̸͎̹̹͑̈̂̾̽̑͑͝,̵̠͇̼̍͛̇̉̄̈́͐͜͝ ̶̢̱̋́̊͒͛̐̌̿̐͗̇a̸̧͎̥͓͈̳͕̮̼͙̼̽͗h̸̨̢̲͙͙̬̥̘̞̑̃̒̔͒͜'̶̧̹͇̘̹̤̜̗̬͇̜̎́̓́̑͘ĺ̸̢̛̖̯͆̍̓̓̔͝l̷͇̳̦̯̣͓̑̒̊̄̏̌́̏̿ö̵̧̡̞̟̫̩̝̲͂̂̈̑͆͛͛i̷̡̨̛͉̠͚̟͙̮̭͕͐͑͆̎̆g̸̺͇̝͇̱̉́̾̾̂̓͑̊͆́̚s̷̨͕̰̭̗͙͔̤̗̈́̈͊̑h̴̝̜̙̣̘͎̺͑̐͊̐̈́ͅǫ̶͍̙̬̣̔͂̓̄̉̚g̴̫̩̜̘̱͓̉̍̓̚͘͜͝ĝ̶̞̤̰̘̣̱͖̉ ̵̛̗̼̒̓͊̏̏́́͂̽͝y̴̢̢̧̦̗̑̍́͂̕a̸̙͔͝,̷̖̪̯̼̰̱̼̔̌̚ͅ ̴̲͍̒̄́̂̎̅͂͐̕͠Ŷ̴̧̪͎̖̠̫̝̙̎̓͝'̵̣̻̩̥͛͘͘ ̶̰̌̆y̷͖̱̖͙͇͖̽̍͊m̸̤͙̖̺͕͖̠͎̙̂̄ǵ̸̞͖̯̖̬'̶̮̗̇ ̶̧̟̾̇͌̇͆͐͘͝ụ̸̢̨̫͕̖̞̳̩̎͋̏̂ĺ̵̡̧̧̺͕̟̣̙̳̙̪́̓͐̇͊̌̀n̵̛̝̩̟̹̎͂̀ ̸̡̟̝̮̼͑͊̄͆̆̑l̴͖̹̹̖͙͆͐̋̓̆'̴̢̺̯̻̄̃́͛͘ ̵̧̛͈̻͔́̈́̓̈́̊̓͠á̷̧̨͈̦̿͊̃͊͊̃̋͘ḧ̷̢̡̘̣͚̬͔̺̯͙̐l̷̡̻̹̲̝͍̘̯͓͗͆̔͠ͅ'̶͓̣̩̮̳̀̒͌̌̈́͐̾̕n̴̢̡̯̟̫̥̥̱̉̍̇̉͌̈́̓̕ͅ'̷̳̯͋̀̐͊̑̇ǧ̶̡̣̜̣̥̲̰̝̄̊̉̋̽̄̑̽h̷̢̧̺̭̪̼̦̲͕͋̌̅̓̀̀a̷̼͂̑̓͂͌̎͘.̴̧̨̠͖̗͚̣̗͂͗̐̋̊̂͌̀͘͠ ̴͕̭͖͖̦̟͓͇̽̌̊̓͑̓͌͂͋̽ͅ ̵̧̧̧̢̣͙͖͍̬̞̩̊͊̒͑͊͝m̶̠̣̋g̵͙͈̻̬̺͍̳̱͇̓́̀̐̈́͂̅̾ǘ̵̧̲̖̣͈̻͚͕̫͂̓̅̑͠h̷̨̥͙̱̺̘̀͂͑̈́̎̓̽'̴̢̞̠̣̺̹͖̪̲̅͊͐͗͂͂́͂̽͛̚è̴̲̥̭̳͍̺̅͂̃̄̂͋̽͒̄ ̸̢̬͔̣̥̍̒̎̏̈̐e̴̡̢̤̫̗̗͊̃͂̑̄̉̊̕͘̕͠ḥ̵̢̞̲̤̟̎͒͂͊̎̇ͅy̶̳͖͎̥͖̝͕͌e̶̢̛̳̻͈̞͇̤̳̒̐͐̀͂̏̈̆͠ ̴̥͕͍̺̦̙̦͓̱̲̿̿͐̿̍͜ŗ̴̨̮̳̗̪̎̄̌̾͒̑̀̍͂ͅ'̷̙̗͙͎͇̙̻͂̈̉̇ĺ̸̠͎̝̥̼̖͔̼̜̪̐͜ȗ̷̼̰̻͚̪̼̜̻̟ḣ̴̛͍̇̑̈́̉ḩ̵̡̝̦̀̅ó̶̡̢͍̖̺͕̥͊̑̕̚͠r̴̢̳̟̟͍͈̭̳̺͒͐̆̈́̓̆̿̌͝ͅ ̵̡͖̝͚̠͇̊̃h̵̛̬̟̹͖͍̻̋̂̾̿̈́͛̅͜'̴̧̰̫̤͖̟̣̭́͋̀̋̎̃͋̃̚̕ ̵̡͚̮̼͓̱̰̙̹̂ũ̷̡̻̪̤̮͗̈͗͐̾̚͠l̶͍̻̣̬̱̳̣̪̀͂n̶̼̆̃̅̅̏ā̶̤͍̹̥̮̼̳̆̚͠ͅḧ̸͈́̒, Ṁ̷̱͈͉̌̍͐̀͒̊̅̎̚͝g̴͖̭̼̩̠͊̓͌͝g̴̫̼͙͎̣̋̀͘͠ȯ̶̤̣̣̃͛͝k̸̢̨̧̻͓̟̻̝̲͕̼͋̾á̵̩̭̠͇̊͒͋̈̍̇̄̅̚͝'̸̧̺̮̫̰̯̺̥̑̐ͅä̶͍̟́í̵̡̥͓̙̼̯̺̈́̈́̏͗̊̎̓͛̚͝ ̵̯̭̹̮̘̓̿̑̈́̕y̴͎̲̓͜a̸͎̹̹͑̈̂̾̽̑͑͝,̵̠͇̼̍͛̇̉̄̈́͐͜͝ ̶̢̱̋́̊͒͛̐̌̿̐͗̇a̸̧͎̥͓͈̳͕̮̼͙̼̽͗h̸̨̢̲͙͙̬̥̘̞̑̃̒̔͒͜'̶̧̹͇̘̹̤̜̗̬͇̜̎́̓́̑͘ĺ̸̢̛̖̯͆̍̓̓̔͝l̷͇̳̦̯̣͓̑̒̊̄̏̌́̏̿ö̵̧̡̞̟̫̩̝̲͂̂̈̑͆͛͛i̷̡̨̛͉̠͚̟͙̮̭͕͐͑͆̎̆g̸̺͇̝͇̱̉́̾̾̂̓͑̊͆́̚s̷̨͕̰̭̗͙͔̤̗̈́̈͊̑h̴̝̜̙̣̘͎̺͑̐͊̐̈́ͅǫ̶͍̙̬̣̔͂̓̄̉̚g̴̫̩̜̘̱͓̉̍̓̚͘͜͝ĝ̶̞̤̰̘̣̱͖̉ ̵̛̗̼̒̓͊̏̏́́͂̽͝y̴̢̢̧̦̗̑̍́͂̕a̸̙͔͝,̷̖̪̯̼̰̱̼̔̌̚ͅ ̴̲͍̒̄́̂̎̅͂͐̕͠Ŷ̴̧̪͎̖̠̫̝̙̎̓͝'̵̣̻̩̥͛͘͘ ̶̰̌̆y̷͖̱̖͙͇͖̽̍͊m̸̤͙̖̺͕͖̠͎̙̂̄ǵ̸̞͖̯̖̬'̶̮̗̇ ̶̧̟̾̇͌̇͆͐͘͝ụ̸̢̨̫͕̖̞̳̩̎͋̏̂ĺ̵̡̧̧̺͕̟̣̙̳̙̪́̓͐̇͊̌̀n̵̛̝̩̟̹̎͂̀ ̸̡̟̝̮̼͑͊̄͆̆̑l̴͖̹̹̖͙͆͐̋̓̆'̴̢̺̯̻̄̃́͛͘ ̵̧̛͈̻͔́̈́̓̈́̊̓͠á̷̧̨͈̦̿͊̃͊͊̃̋͘ḧ̷̢̡̘̣͚̬͔̺̯͙̐l̷̡̻̹̲̝͍̘̯͓͗͆̔͠ͅ'̶͓̣̩̮̳̀̒͌̌̈́͐̾̕n̴̢̡̯̟̫̥̥̱̉̍̇̉͌̈́̓̕ͅ'̷̳̯͋̀̐͊̑̇ǧ̶̡̣̜̣̥̲̰̝̄̊̉̋̽̄̑̽h̷̢̧̺̭̪̼̦̲͕͋̌̅̓̀̀a̷̼͂̑̓͂͌̎͘.̴̧̨̠͖̗͚̣̗͂͗̐̋̊̂͌̀͘͠ ̴͕̭͖͖̦̟͓͇̽̌̊̓͑̓͌͂͋̽ͅ ̵̧̧̧̢̣͙͖͍̬̞̩̊͊̒͑͊͝m̶̠̣̋g̵͙͈̻̬̺͍̳̱͇̓́̀̐̈́͂̅̾ǘ̵̧̲̖̣͈̻͚͕̫͂̓̅̑͠h̷̨̥͙̱̺̘̀͂͑̈́̎̓̽'̴̢̞̠̣̺̹͖̪̲̅͊͐͗͂͂́͂̽͛̚è̴̲̥̭̳͍̺̅͂̃̄̂͋̽͒̄ ̸̢̬͔̣̥̍̒̎̏̈̐e̴̡̢̤̫̗̗͊̃͂̑̄̉̊̕͘̕͠ḥ̵̢̞̲̤̟̎͒͂͊̎̇ͅy̶̳͖͎̥͖̝͕͌e̶̢̛̳̻͈̞͇̤̳̒̐͐̀͂̏̈̆͠ ̴̥͕͍̺̦̙̦͓̱̲̿̿͐̿̍͜ŗ̴̨̮̳̗̪̎̄̌̾͒̑̀̍͂ͅ'̷̙̗͙͎͇̙̻͂̈̉̇ĺ̸̠͎̝̥̼̖͔̼̜̪̐͜ȗ̷̼̰̻͚̪̼̜̻̟ḣ̴̛͍̇̑̈́̉ḩ̵̡̝̦̀̅ó̶̡̢͍̖̺͕̥͊̑̕̚͠r̴̢̳̟̟͍͈̭̳̺͒͐̆̈́̓̆̿̌͝ͅ ̵̡͖̝͚̠͇̊̃h̵̛̬̟̹͖͍̻̋̂̾̿̈́͛̅͜'̴̧̰̫̤͖̟̣̭́͋̀̋̎̃͋̃̚̕ ̵̡͚̮̼͓̱̰̙̹̂ũ̷̡̻̪̤̮͗̈͗͐̾̚͠l̶͍̻̣̬̱̳̣̪̀͂n̶̼̆̃̅̅̏ā̶̤͍̹̥̮̼̳̆̚͠ͅḧ̸͈́̒, Ṁ̷̱͈͉̌̍͐̀͒̊̅̎̚͝g̴͖̭̼̩̠͊̓͌͝g̴̫̼͙͎̣̋̀͘͠ȯ̶̤̣̣̃͛͝k̸̢̨̧̻͓̟̻̝̲͕̼͋̾á̵̩̭̠͇̊͒͋̈̍̇̄̅̚͝'̸̧̺̮̫̰̯̺̥̑̐ͅä̶͍̟́í̵̡̥͓̙̼̯̺̈́̈́̏͗̊̎̓͛̚͝ ̵̯̭̹̮̘̓̿̑̈́̕y̴͎̲̓͜a̸͎̹̹͑̈̂̾̽̑͑͝,̵̠͇̼̍͛̇̉̄̈́͐͜͝ ̶̢̱̋́̊͒͛̐̌̿̐͗̇a̸̧͎̥͓͈̳͕̮̼͙̼̽͗h̸̨̢̲͙͙̬̥̘̞̑̃̒̔͒͜'̶̧̹͇̘̹̤̜̗̬͇̜̎́̓́̑͘ĺ̸̢̛̖̯͆̍̓̓̔͝l̷͇̳̦̯̣͓̑̒̊̄̏̌́̏̿ö̵̧̡̞̟̫̩̝̲͂̂̈̑͆͛͛i̷̡̨̛͉̠͚̟͙̮̭͕͐͑͆̎̆g̸̺͇̝͇̱̉́̾̾̂̓͑̊͆́̚s̷̨͕̰̭̗͙͔̤̗̈́̈͊̑h̴̝̜̙̣̘͎̺͑̐͊̐̈́ͅǫ̶͍̙̬̣̔͂̓̄̉̚g̴̫̩̜̘̱͓̉̍̓̚͘͜͝ĝ̶̞̤̰̘̣̱͖̉ ̵̛̗̼̒̓͊̏̏́́͂̽͝y̴̢̢̧̦̗̑̍́͂̕a̸̙͔͝,̷̖̪̯̼̰̱̼̔̌̚ͅ ̴̲͍̒̄́̂̎̅͂͐̕͠Ŷ̴̧̪͎̖̠̫̝̙̎̓͝'̵̣̻̩̥͛͘͘ ̶̰̌̆y̷͖̱̖͙͇͖̽̍͊m̸̤͙̖̺͕͖̠͎̙̂̄ǵ̸̞͖̯̖̬'̶̮̗̇ ̶̧̟̾̇͌̇͆͐͘͝ụ̸̢̨̫͕̖̞̳̩̎͋̏̂ĺ̵̡̧̧̺͕̟̣̙̳̙̪́̓͐̇͊̌̀n̵̛̝̩̟̹̎͂̀ ̸̡̟̝̮̼͑͊̄͆̆̑l̴͖̹̹̖͙͆͐̋̓̆'̴̢̺̯̻̄̃́͛͘ ̵̧̛͈̻͔́̈́̓̈́̊̓͠á̷̧̨͈̦̿͊̃͊͊̃̋͘ḧ̷̢̡̘̣͚̬͔̺̯͙̐l̷̡̻̹̲̝͍̘̯͓͗͆̔͠ͅ'̶͓̣̩̮̳̀̒͌̌̈́͐̾̕n̴̢̡̯̟̫̥̥̱̉̍̇̉͌̈́̓̕ͅ'̷̳̯͋̀̐͊̑̇ǧ̶̡̣̜̣̥̲̰̝̄̊̉̋̽̄̑̽h̷̢̧̺̭̪̼̦̲͕͋̌̅̓̀̀a̷̼͂̑̓͂͌̎͘.̴̧̨̠͖̗͚̣̗͂͗̐̋̊̂͌̀͘͠ ̴͕̭͖͖̦̟͓͇̽̌̊̓͑̓͌͂͋̽ͅ ̵̧̧̧̢̣͙͖͍̬̞̩̊͊̒͑͊͝m̶̠̣̋g̵͙͈̻̬̺͍̳̱͇̓́̀̐̈́͂̅̾ǘ̵̧̲̖̣͈̻͚͕̫͂̓̅̑͠h̷̨̥͙̱̺̘̀͂͑̈́̎̓̽'̴̢̞̠̣̺̹͖̪̲̅͊͐͗͂͂́͂̽͛̚è̴̲̥̭̳͍̺̅͂̃̄̂͋̽͒̄ ̸̢̬͔̣̥̍̒̎̏̈̐e̴̡̢̤̫̗̗͊̃͂̑̄̉̊̕͘̕͠ḥ̵̢̞̲̤̟̎͒͂͊̎̇ͅy̶̳͖͎̥͖̝͕͌e̶̢̛̳̻͈̞͇̤̳̒̐͐̀͂̏̈̆͠ ̴̥͕͍̺̦̙̦͓̱̲̿̿͐̿̍͜ŗ̴̨̮̳̗̪̎̄̌̾͒̑̀̍͂ͅ'̷̙̗͙͎͇̙̻͂̈̉̇ĺ̸̠͎̝̥̼̖͔̼̜̪̐͜ȗ̷̼̰̻͚̪̼̜̻̟ḣ̴̛͍̇̑̈́̉ḩ̵̡̝̦̀̅ó̶̡̢͍̖̺͕̥͊̑̕̚͠r̴̢̳̟̟͍͈̭̳̺͒͐̆̈́̓̆̿̌͝ͅ ̵̡͖̝͚̠͇̊̃h̵̛̬̟̹͖͍̻̋̂̾̿̈́͛̅͜'̴̧̰̫̤͖̟̣̭́͋̀̋̎̃͋̃̚̕ ̵̡͚̮̼͓̱̰̙̹̂ũ̷̡̻̪̤̮͗̈͗͐̾̚͠l̶͍̻̣̬̱̳̣̪̀͂n̶̼̆̃̅̅̏ā̶̤͍̹̥̮̼̳̆̚͠ͅḧ̸͈́̒, Ṁ̷̱͈͉̌̍͐̀͒̊̅̎̚͝g̴͖̭̼̩̠͊̓͌͝g̴̫̼͙͎̣̋̀͘͠ȯ̶̤̣̣̃͛͝k̸̢̨̧̻͓̟̻̝̲͕̼͋̾á̵̩̭̠͇̊͒͋̈̍̇̄̅̚͝'̸̧̺̮̫̰̯̺̥̑̐ͅä̶͍̟́í̵̡̥͓̙̼̯̺̈́̈́̏͗̊̎̓͛̚͝ ̵̯̭̹̮̘̓̿̑̈́̕y̴͎̲̓͜a̸͎̹̹͑̈̂̾̽̑͑͝,̵̠͇̼̍͛̇̉̄̈́͐͜͝ ̶̢̱̋́̊͒͛̐̌̿̐͗̇a̸̧͎̥͓͈̳͕̮̼͙̼̽͗h̸̨̢̲͙͙̬̥̘̞̑̃̒̔͒͜'̶̧̹͇̘̹̤̜̗̬͇̜̎́̓́̑͘ĺ̸̢̛̖̯͆̍̓̓̔͝l̷͇̳̦̯̣͓̑̒̊̄̏̌́̏̿ö̵̧̡̞̟̫̩̝̲͂̂̈̑͆͛͛i̷̡̨̛͉̠͚̟͙̮̭͕͐͑͆̎̆g̸̺͇̝͇̱̉́̾̾̂̓͑̊͆́̚s̷̨͕̰̭̗͙͔̤̗̈́̈͊̑h̴̝̜̙̣̘͎̺͑̐͊̐̈́ͅǫ̶͍̙̬̣̔͂̓̄̉̚g̴̫̩̜̘̱͓̉̍̓̚͘͜͝ĝ̶̞̤̰̘̣̱͖̉ ̵̛̗̼̒̓͊̏̏́́͂̽͝y̴̢̢̧̦̗̑̍́͂̕a̸̙͔͝,̷̖̪̯̼̰̱̼̔̌̚ͅ ̴̲͍̒̄́̂̎̅͂͐̕͠Ŷ̴̧̪͎̖̠̫̝̙̎̓͝'̵̣̻̩̥͛͘͘ ̶̰̌̆y̷͖̱̖͙͇͖̽̍͊m̸̤͙̖̺͕͖̠͎̙̂̄ǵ̸̞͖̯̖̬'̶̮̗̇ ̶̧̟̾̇͌̇͆͐͘͝ụ̸̢̨̫͕̖̞̳̩̎͋̏̂ĺ̵̡̧̧̺͕̟̣̙̳̙̪́̓͐̇͊̌̀n̵̛̝̩̟̹̎͂̀ ̸̡̟̝̮̼͑͊̄͆̆̑l̴͖̹̹̖͙͆͐̋̓̆'̴̢̺̯̻̄̃́͛͘ ̵̧̛͈̻͔́̈́̓̈́̊̓͠á̷̧̨͈̦̿͊̃͊͊̃̋͘ḧ̷̢̡̘̣͚̬͔̺̯͙̐l̷̡̻̹̲̝͍̘̯͓͗͆̔͠ͅ'̶͓̣̩̮̳̀̒͌̌̈́͐̾̕n̴̢̡̯̟̫̥̥̱̉̍̇̉͌̈́̓̕ͅ'̷̳̯͋̀̐͊̑̇ǧ̶̡̣̜̣̥̲̰̝̄̊̉̋̽̄̑̽h̷̢̧̺̭̪̼̦̲͕͋̌̅̓̀̀a̷̼͂̑̓͂͌̎͘.̴̧̨̠͖̗͚̣̗͂͗̐̋̊̂͌̀͘͠ ̴͕̭͖͖̦̟͓͇̽̌̊̓͑̓͌͂͋̽ͅ ̵̧̧̧̢̣͙͖͍̬̞̩̊͊̒͑͊͝m̶̠̣̋g̵͙͈̻̬̺͍̳̱͇̓́̀̐̈́͂̅̾ǘ̵̧̲̖̣͈̻͚͕̫͂̓̅̑͠h̷̨̥͙̱̺̘̀͂͑̈́̎̓̽'̴̢̞̠̣̺̹͖̪̲̅͊͐͗͂͂́͂̽͛̚è̴̲̥̭̳͍̺̅͂̃̄̂͋̽͒̄ ̸̢̬͔̣̥̍̒̎̏̈̐e̴̡̢̤̫̗̗͊̃͂̑̄̉̊̕͘̕͠ḥ̵̢̞̲̤̟̎͒͂͊̎̇ͅy̶̳͖͎̥͖̝͕͌e̶̢̛̳̻͈̞͇̤̳̒̐͐̀͂̏̈̆͠ ̴̥͕͍̺̦̙̦͓̱̲̿̿͐̿̍͜ŗ̴̨̮̳̗̪̎̄̌̾͒̑̀̍͂ͅ'̷̙̗͙͎͇̙̻͂̈̉̇ĺ̸̠͎̝̥̼̖͔̼̜̪̐͜ȗ̷̼̰̻͚̪̼̜̻̟ḣ̴̛͍̇̑̈́̉ḩ̵̡̝̦̀̅ó̶̡̢͍̖̺͕̥͊̑̕̚͠r̴̢̳̟̟͍͈̭̳̺͒͐̆̈́̓̆̿̌͝ͅ ̵̡͖̝͚̠͇̊̃h̵̛̬̟̹͖͍̻̋̂̾̿̈́͛̅͜'̴̧̰̫̤͖̟̣̭́͋̀̋̎̃͋̃̚̕ ̵̡͚̮̼͓̱̰̙̹̂ũ̷̡̻̪̤̮͗̈͗͐̾̚͠l̶͍̻̣̬̱̳̣̪̀͂n̶̼̆̃̅̅̏ā̶̤͍̹̥̮̼̳̆̚͠ͅḧ̸͈́̒!
It repeats with every rush of wind in Weiss ear. A sort of call to her that she could not resist. As she listens to those howling words she subconsciously begins moving to the mist. Raising a finger to touch it. Just as she does she suddenly see's a flash of light white hit her mind. An image of a haunting malnourished face peer's for the briefest of infinitesimal milliseconds. But even for the briefest of seconds Weiss's mind reels back from the horror of what she saw. This thing whatever it was. Was the face that one would dare not dream for it's one that only the mad would dare to dream. Its red eye, fueled with hatred stared into Weiss soul as it lets out a haunting silent scream. Weiss pulls back from the shock. Unable to grasp for a moment what horror she just blinked. As she staggers, she found herself not in the cave that she just was, but somewhere deeper.
"Wha… what just happened." Weiss mutters to herself as she staggers about trying to clear her head. She felt as though her Aura was tapped similar to finishing a fight with skilled Huntsmen. However after a brief moment she was able to find her composure and felt her aura slowly restoring. As she looks around she calls out. "Fausta, Mr. Philips, Anybody?!"
All she heard was the soft echoes of her own voice coming back to her. Letting out a small huff of annoyance she remarks under her breath. "Great… alone again."
Once she feels sufficiently rested she walks down, following the cave tunnel as though she was a character form a Jules Verne novel. As she wanders down however she gets a strange feeling as though she was heading somewhere… familiar. This of course haunting notion came true when she found herself in the very halls she dreamed about. The decorative temple of some ancient region that existed in a long forgotten Ice epoch. As she stood exactly where she dreamed, not a day ago she begins to listen closely for the sound of that haunting chanting. Similar to the one from her dreams… however she heard not a peep beyond the low pitch of the howling wind. The wait to hear any kind of hissing begin to build suspense, and Weiss begins sweat in fear from the anticipation. However nothing happened. By the end of a minute of sweating bullets she found nothing to happen.
"… Monty almighty." Weiss murmurs to herself as she turns around to get a good look at the wall. "I'm starting to loose myself if I think a dream is grounds for foresight of the fut…AAAAAHHH!"
Just as she turns around she came face to face with a translucent spectral spook that seemingly appeared right behind her. Weiss in her shock fell back with a scream. As she tries to regain her composure after that cliché jump-scare, the ghostly apparition seemingly stared down at her with a stoic almost apathetic glair at Weiss. This allowed Weiss to get a fairly decent look at the translucent spectral being.
She looked young, as young as Oscar if not younger or at least last she saw the boy who had Ozpin in his head. Along with her childish image she had a raggedy clothes but she could make out that they were rather fashion forward for the average girl she saw in this land. But what really caught were her attention was the set of bunny ears. A common trait of a faunas. After a few minutes of staring Weiss finally found the words to speak to the ghostly entity.
"Um… hello?" Weiss murmured aloud, unsure how to speak to this spectral child. It remains silent continue staring at her with those broken eyes. She continues to stare at Weiss for the next minute before Weiss speaks up with more clarity. "Can you hear me? Er, understand me?"
The ghostly spectral does give a slight reaction a solum but slow nod. Gulping Weiss asked the spectral, "Can you speak?"
The ghostly spectral slowly shakes her head to side to side. Giving Weiss the impression of her inability. Least she could understand what Weiss is asking. Standing up she dust herself off before speaking with the ghostly child.
"Alright, um do you know where we are?" Weiss asked, to which the ghost nods her head. "Is it… Remnant?"
The ghost girl much to Weiss disappointment shakes her head. "(Sigh) unfortunately. I'm still on earth am I?"
Strangely the ghost girl shakes her head again signaling no. Confused, Weiss raises a brow before asking. "No, not Earth either? What do you mean by that?"
The ghost girl remains quiet. Reminding Weiss she could only answer yes or no questions. "Right, sorry forgot. Um is it possible that you can show me?"
The ghostly entity pauses, as though deep in thought. It then moved towards the wall, holding out her hand the wall almost vanishes, revealing a hidden passage that was just behind the ice. The ghostly child then turns to Weiss and gives a look that nonverbally commands Weiss to follow. Taking a gulp she followed this translucent child into the unknown. The tunnel like the one she had found herself in was colder with those scrawled symbols now coating the roof and floor as well, giving Weiss a bit of a headache as she walked through the queer designs that littered the entire hallway. After a few minutes they entered a room that Weiss almost recognized. It looked like a house from Mantals slums. Sunken into place as though the earth had opened to allow for this shabby hut to be swallowed whole. The ghostly being motioned for the answers to be inside. Weiss was a bit hesitant to open the door, but she found the courage to open the stiff wooden door. What was on the other side however… was something she was not prepared for.
The shabby single room hut looked in complete disarray. The couch, dining table, and chairs were broken into splinters to use as fuel though seemingly in vain by snow covered hearth. Along with the disarray and splinters of furniture their were a number of pots, pans, and other array of kitchenware scattered about with some bearing scratches and holes that match the inhuman blood soaked marks on the floor. Whatever was here seemed vicious, animalistic, and terrifying. Slowly Weiss moved into the homestead, her senses shaking from the horror of the scene. Words could not describe the dread these haunting scratches that was imbedded in the frozen wooded floor. However as haunting as this room is, it did not answer her question. Slowly turning to the ghost child, she seemed terrified. As though she had an inkling of what had happened here and was haunted by it. She seemed to have noticed Weiss and with that terrified look points to the side. Turning, she see's a book sticking out of a snow pile in the corner. Taking the spectral guides word she approaches the book and pull it free. The book seemed to be a sketch journal, stained and bloodied with unnatural claw marks shredding the outer cover. Nervous she opens the pages.
Inside the sketch book, she found a number of sketches, ranging from profession illustrations of places Weiss was familiar. Atlas, Mantal, It's people both human and Faunas, and the Grimm and wildlife that stalks the wintery plateau. To child hand drawings of these same places. One being of the all to familiar ghostly child beside a faunas mother and father. As she flips through the pages she came to the middle section. It seemed the book was turned into a diary of sorts, detailing the grizzly scene that had concurred in this forgotten hobble.
August 3rd XX89,
The storm has buried our little home. We had bad storms before where our whole community would be forced from our homes. But I could not describe the severity or the speed of this sudden storm. My husband Mauve assures me that everything be alright, but I can't for the love we hold believe him. It feels that we are not just buried in the snow, but sinking as well. I am writing this in my sketch book so I can remain calm for our daughter's sake. She had a nightmare about the snow man getting her and now that the house is buried she is more determine then ever that this nightmare is real. All I can do is reassure her that it's just a hard storm, and calm her so she won't attract the Blind Worms.
August 6th XX89,
It's been three days… We prepared incase of situations like this but no matter how hard we tried the fire we lit always dissipates leaving us alone in the cold. My husband has begun digging hoping to free us from our icy prison. We have torn the curtains down and I sewed together ponchos from them in an attempt to keep us warm. Though even under multiple layers of sheets, blankets, and cloth's we are cold. I fear to sleep as though I know if we do we may never wake up.
August 7th XX89
Something is wrong with the snow. Seriously wrong. My husband spent many hours digging with tools till they broke. He then begins digging with his hands till they bleed. As I patched up his poor fingers our little one had gotten out from under me and continued digging, revealing a passage way. A tunnel that looks to smooth to be natural and neat to be a Blind Worms doing. What creeped me the most was that she said that the snow told her where to find this. It's too cold now and my husbands hands are injured. We will wait till the morning before venturing down this cave. As I sit here writing these words, I swear I hear the sounds of something breathing. Hard and hollow from behind the walls. All four. As though the snow itself is alive and watching us.
August… does it matter anymore?
We ventured down the freezing tunnel, using a strand of twine to lead us back should we need to. As we ventured further we found a maze of hallways with strange symbols carved into them. I'm not the religious type, but no god on Remnant would make such a sigil of his followers to worship. And Remnant we are not on anymore. As we managed to find an opening, we found a large blinding storm of a desilicated land. An eternal age of Ice and snow, beneath not one, not two, but eight large moons! The sight of this drove us back into the cave and the shelter of our shack. I use to hate this shamble hobble we called a home… but after what we witnessed I could no longer find more comfort then the safety of these crooked walls.
… Day… 9?
It's been days… a week, I don't know anymore. Food is nearly out. We have been rationing our food but it won't last. As the temperature seemingly drops to the point that any skin left bare would turn blue from the exposure in a matter of minutes. My husband… his fingers had blackened and we were forced to amputate them. Gods help us their was so much blood and the cut was poor. He was in agony and there is no way I will let him drink the medical ethanol. Alcohol would freeze him faster. My daughter she's not acting normal. No longer fearing about the snow man of her nightmares but rather seems entranced even befriending it. This all started a few days ago when I saw her talking to a strange gold medallion. I don't know how she got it but she claimed to have found it when we made it to the surface. When I went to touch it I felt a sudden shock and dropped the damn thing. My daughter then begins telling me about how the snow man wants her, speaking about how he was abandoned by both father and mother, all alone he is and that all he wants is to never be alone again. I immediately took that amulet and threw it out. Yet the next day she somehow had it in her hand. Talking to it as if it were an imaginary friend. Am I loosing my Mind!? The snow still whispers, now only louder in a language I can't even put to paper.
… My husband is dead.
He died last night. I'm at a lost on what to do. Though the death of my beloved was not the most terrifying part of my wretched day. As I covered his body, my daughter asked me with a straight face when we will EAT HIM! EAT HIM! My daughter, whom was a vegetarian since she was five asked with a straight face when we will eat her father! I lost it on her and she went running to her room crying. But not before I ripped that amulet and threw it to the snow. I don't know but it has somehow corrupted my baby girl. She has stopped wearing the blankets and seemed unbothered by the cold. I heard stories of travelers who remove their clothes thinking they were hot only to freeze to death. Yet I can't for the life of me see her showing any signs of hypothermia… I'm truly going mad am I?
… Last entry no doubt about it.
My daughter is gone. Something had replaced her and is wearing her skin like a suit! I woke up one night to the sound of a crunching noise. Looking up I see something hunched over my husbands body… it was my daughter. She must have left her room when I was asleep. She was naked with blood smeared over her. The worst being her face which was coated in blood, finger nails splintered and chipped from tearing into her father… and when I shined a light at her she let out a feral hiss before running on all fours out the door and into the cave. I tried running after her but she moved unnaturally quick in the snow. I returned to the shack… did my best to cover my husband… all while the snow mocked me, teased me to take a bite. No, my soul will not be tainted as thus. I'll starve or let whatever my daughter has become finish me off before I even consider nibling on the body of my beloved. I hear that 'thing' soulless words now, Vulgtmah mgfm'latghnah, vulgtmah mgfm'latghnah. the mgfm'latghnah llll yogfm'll ph'nglui h' syha'h ahmgr'luh.
The last entry had half the page decorated in blood, suggesting a gruesome end. One that Weiss was unsure if she wanted to know, but she could easily guess by the gruesome amount of blood around the room. As she closes the book, something fell from the old book. A locket. Bending down to pick it up with her prosthetic she pulled it to her face. Where she could see a small child in the rusted tin locket. It looked like the spectral being that had led her to this place. As she looks into the picture she felt an unnatural disturbance behind her. She didn't look behind but rather her eye's shift to the far corner of her head. Gaining a glimpse of something massive behind her. Her right hand slowly moves up her belt to the hilt of Myrtenaster. Her fingers wrapped around the grip of her rapier, ready to pull when she heard a blood curdling voice. It was childlike but in the most hushed and distorted tone that one would fail to see any humanity to in that voice whatso ever.
"̶̬̩̽͂̔̈́̇́̒Ḿ̸̠̔̅̃͒̔̿͊̎̈̄̓̏́͌a̶̢̨̲̻̖͎͚̖̯͔͚͗̀̋̽͆͆͋ͅͅm̴̨̛̙̳̞̹̑͌̐̌̒̒̽͠á̴̡̜̩̞̠̙͔̭͇̲̮͐̋̚…̶̡̙͙͈̩͍͙̬̬͔̜̣̎͊́͌̓̓̊̚͜ͅͅ ̷̰̤͛̈́̈́̇̋͘ͅḮ̶̡̨̦̩̮̜͋̓͜͝'̷̫̤̦̙̪͈͇̣͉̻̳̲̼͊̈́͑͗͌̐͋̏͆͗͗̓̾m̷̟͈̠̞̼̏̐̍̈́̀̀̒̊̈́̓̄͂͘̚͘ͅ ̶̗̀͆Ḫ̸̨̖͍̞͂̌̀̋͛̂̾͒̒͂̃͘͝u̵̺̞̮̮̖̠̒̂̉͛̈̃̈́̀͛̐̇͘͘n̸̪̼̣̝̊̏̏g̷̰͇̬̤͚͌͐̑̃̆͌̿́́̌͘͝͝r̴̡̮̲͕͙̈́͌̋͌͊̓͝͝͠͝y̴̢̢̧̧̖̖̟̪̭͕͑̑͝…̷͇̦̯̤̦̣̈̋̋̽͛̀͑̀͆̆̉̚͠ ̷̜̤̦̙͉̖͖͂̔̃̎͋͑̍̆̑̊͐͐͜ͅS̶̢̘̟̲͚̞̓͒́ŏ̷̥̦͔̲͖̖͓̪̱̙̟̜…̴̡͉̰̟̙͈̘͚͎͕̩̓̈́͑̅͒̒̎̔̎̽͛̑͗̚̚͜ ̶̭̻̤͚͚̯̲͚̬͎̦̻̝̍͋H̸̨̪̞͍͇̖̱͂́Û̶͔̘̘̞̀̀̑̆̾̀͂͑̔̄́͊͒̕Ǹ̸̛̼̞͕͈̲̈́͐̽͊Ǵ̸̨̧̹̫̮͇̘̥̥̒̋̅̈́̈͘̕͝R̸̭̺͓͛̂͊̎̅̑͝Y̸̡͔̗̬̯͚̲͕͒̔̐̓̒͋̐͘͝͝͝ͅ"̴̡͖̻̫̻̩͔͑̿̎
Weiss then dives as a massive being lunges at Weiss with a powerful set of claws. Getting back onto her feet, Weiss stared at the entity that was before her. It was a disheveled abomination, a nine foot tall emaciated creature , with patches of hair, dried blood splashed over the creatures chest fingers, and mouth, and a jagged jaw that looked as though it was a werewolf that had halfway transformed with one side snout pushed forward. What was the most gruesome fact of this creature was the telltale Faunas rabbit ears. Antlers protruding from these ears painfully so and kept them standing as though they were an impaled scarecrow. It let's out a loud roar as it jumps at Weiss. Using her semblance however she was able to activate a glyph underneath her, shooting out of the room, as she flew through the air she sliced the top of the ceiling causing a cave in. Burring the house behind her and trapping the monstrous creature inside that home.
"Tsk, well that is an answer I regret asking." Weiss remarks to herself as she stands up. Dusting her self as she looks back at the snow pile.
As she stares at the snow pile, she couldn't help but feel bad for the thing… though now thinking about it. Did that spirit led her here as a trap or was genuinely trying to answer her. She couldn't get an answer now from the spirit as it has now vanished, as would an apparition would after a fright. Deciding to head back the way she came, she's sure to find something. As she moves back up the tunnel, the view pulls onto the snow pile. After a minute or two, a sudden hand shoots out as the scene goes black.
Some time later
The scene opens up with Fausta. She was now in the tunnelway with some of the posse. All armed and ready, or as ready as they can be. As soon as Weiss touched the fog she suddenly vanished through, as if she were the last drops of a drink being sucked in through a straw. This caused a few of the barely remaining posse to run back in terror. Fausta reacting from the shock rushed over. As she touches the fog, she suddenly vanishes finding herself in a strange and cold cave. Feeling rather weak, collapsing onto the cold ground as she struggles to get back up, Philips came through and landed beside her… before ejecting his breakfast onto the icy ground. Shortly after three more came through feeling different levels of fatigue. As they waited to catch themselves, they then quickly moved down the tunnel with a five man party, including the Philps and Fausta.
"Weiss! Weiss! ¡Maldita seas, princesa de las nieves! ¡Tenías que tocar la Niebla!" (God Damn you snow princess! You had to touch the Mist!) Fauata called out as she moved ahead of the group looking for Weiss.
"Ms. Fausta! Would you slow down. We don't know what the hell is going on, and yet you are blindly marching on into the unknown." Philip's pleads with Fausta as he tries not to slide on the ice.
"Uh huh well let me tell you something Canuck. I am not one to leave someone behind. Especially in strange circumstances like this. Now if your done being cautious about everything like un ratoncito cobarde! (a cowardly little mouse) I'd like to find that princesa de nieve before she does something stupid." Fausta snaps at Philips.
"And we will just… can we use our heads first." Philips retorts calmly. "I mean we don't even know where here is, much less what just happened."
"(Sigh) fine… suppose you're right." Fausta said as she calms down a bit, slowing down much to the relief of the others. "Just a lot of strange things happened since I met this girl. And I ain't in the business of leaving folks to die."
"Fair, though I'm not sure you can get any stranger then what's going on here." Philip remarks with a chuckle.
"Clearly you didn't hear what happened in Huntsville." Fausta remarks cryptically under her breath.
"… What?" Philips asked, however he didn't got an answer before being shushed by Fausta.
"Hey… look ahead." Fausta said pointing to the wall ahead. Strange Aztec runes can be seen carved on the wall. This catches Philip's attention as the group walks over to the wall.
Philips takes a closer look, his eyes carefully examining the hieroglyphics that were carved into the wall. As he examines it after a few minutes, Fausta asked aloud. "Can you read these fancy paintings?"
"Um, yeah. Unlike the carvings out on the gate this is much easier for me to read." Philip's replies as he pauses to pull out his book. Cross examining the texts he reads out loud, "Teōmatl in Itztlacoliuhqui, teōmatl in Itztlacoliuhqui. In tlahtōllōtl tlamāhuiztlālih tlatlacuilohtl iccahuac icenqui. Yn mecahuil in ilamatl, yn mecahuil in tlatlayōlpopoca. Tlacualcātia in chicahuac iccahuac Itztlacoliuhqui. Cenca yn cemanahuac, in tlen cemiztlamiquiliztli, yn tetlalmāticoz, in tlen cētlazōtlāliztli cīhuapilli Itztlacoliuhqui."
"… I'm not even going to attempt to understand anything you just said or who came up with such a language. But the hell does that mean?" Fausta said having no idea what this Canadian said.
"Rough translation, it says 'Praise to Itztlacoliuhqui, praise to Itztlacoliuhqui. The truth of ice and snow he knows, with gift in hand we too become masters of the wind and frost. We sing to the knife of winter and pray for his release of eternal wandering. Done so with our bodies, mind, and kin we appease the oncoming storm Itztlacoliuhqui." Philips answers. As Philip finish there suddenly came silence. Absolute silence. The wind had been howling long enough that subconsciously ignored. Now that had stopped however, there came a sense of unease as though something bad was about to happen… and sure enough they were right.
Something, loud yet familiar can be heard rushing down the hallway. It was a loud roar that could only be described as a Rabbid Grizzly Bear. Yet way too big to be just a bear, even as furious and ferocious as grizzly bear. The four armed members of the group took aim at where the sounds were coming from while Philips stood back. As they waited, something large turned the corner and it wasn't exactly a bear. The large beast had four arms, like a monkey fingers on all six limbs. The fangs protruded from the maw but only fells short of the long rhino like horn. Seeing its yellow eyes caused the unexpected five to freeze in shock of this unusual bear. One that the animal took advantage as it impaled the conductor in the chest. Throwing his screaming body across the room.
"Holy shit! The hell is that!" Philip screams as he watches the body hit the wall with a splat.
"¡Un oso grande y feo!" (A big ugly bear!) Fausta shouted as she breaks free from the shock and levels her lever action Winchester. "Just shoot the maldición thing!"
She begins firing to which the other two quickly snapped free from their shock and opened fires on the creature. It lets out a roar as it was hit with Winchester 30-06 and double odd buck shot. However it did little against the thick hide of the monstrous bear. It swatted the Civilian back, sending him into the wall before rushing at the Pinkerton. As the agent was reloading his shotgun the bear grabs him by his arm, pulling it from his socket as he waved him around in the air before slamming him back down. Ending the agents life with a horrific crunching noise. By then it turns to Fausta and Philip who witnessed such a force this unusual creature was capable of. Acting quickly Fausta drops her rifle and pulls out a stick of dynamite from her satchel. She was trying to light it when the ape of a bear swatted at her. She barely dodged out of the way but the bear was quick and picked her up by her feet. She felt her leg twist as she was lifted up into the air. The big beast opens its maw to try and bite her head off when suddenly came a bullet that just missed its eye.
The monstrous bear stops to look at who shot at it only to see Philip. He struggles to get off another shot, as he has never shot a gun before in his life, and was not expecting the recoil of a 38. As he cocks the hammer back the monstrous beast threw Fausta at Philip. Crashing into him. The two groan in pain as the beast pounds its chest with its hands like an ape, this did nothing as the two hurried to their feet as Fausta quickly attempted to light another match. It charges towards them but Fausta managed to spark a match and lit the fuse. With the dynamite lit, she threw it to the side before screaming for Philip to run. Though she didn't need to as the Canadian writer was already making tracks. Outpacing the old Vaquera who was just a few inches behind. As they ran the dynamites fuse quickly burned away till it reached the base of the stick. Then within a moment the stick explodes causing the scene to go black.
Hello Everyone Wombag1786 here
So originally I was going to end arc here but… putting some thought into it, I feel another chapter is needed so I could add some details. That being the mythos isn't solely creeping on Earth and the Milky Way Galaxy but it has been to Remnant (And whatever Galaxy they are on). Along with that some other ideas as well but that will come next chapter. Anyways let's get on with the Comments and questions.
From Blackwing: Well she does survive but let's say… I got some plans for her. (Word to the wise… never trust a fuckin Pinkerton)
For now it's all but silence on what's going on with Ruby, but trust me. Things will get interesting, at least in the epilogue.
Well… you'd assume that it cares who it snatches but as a rule of thumb. When it comes to these Mythos entities (Even this one). Never say their real names. That just brings their attention onto you. Even their nicknames might have a chance of drawing their attention.
Yep, though much more so then one expected.
Thanks, I hope this chapters worth the wait.
To be honest… devastated. I hadn't felt this bad since the episode where Darrel was shot (twd) I know the fandom will keep it alive. Hell I'm doing so with these chapters. But I just hope that it finds a new home that respects it and the creators.
Thanks for writing Blackwing8.
From Guest: Well, I don't entirely disagree with that, but the biggest fear is who they sell it to. Can you imagine what kind of nightmarish hell the serries would face if RWBY is sold to a company like Amazon, Crunchyroll, or god forbid Disney? Thats honestly my fear if anything and I think that's with most people.
Thanks for writing Guest.
From Crimson Weresloth: She shouldn't… unless she's after something?
Thanks for writing Crimson Weresloth.
Welp, that's it for now. A lot of questions, very few answer, and not enough cork boards to make the conspiracy board. Maybe I should make a timeline chapter. Give those who are questioning what the fuck is going a clearer picture. But till then, please Fav and Fol the story, leave a comment or question bellow.
Till then is Wombag1786 signing off.
1. The Painting of Zann
2. Cold winds of the Past
3. The Swine of Manchester
4. Five Year's of Red
5. The Jade Tiger of the East
6. The Sin of the Mother
7. The Sign of Witt
8. The Lost set
9. The King in the swamp