AceReaper
patreon
Grimm Nightmares Chapter 59
🕑 Added 2024-10-17 19:18:28 +0000 UTCChapter 59 Change, or, Try to
Scourge Beasts.
They were the first Beast Jaune ever encountered and the first to take his life… Disembowelment is not a pleasant death by any means, but by claw and tooth… it was not surprising that he tried to forget.
To Jaune, they represented the Beastly Scourge in all its cumulative horror.
The mere vestiges of humanity that remained were all but imperceivable, serving only to enhance the chimeric nature of the wolf-like Beasts. They were killing machines that far surpassed the other afflicted, the only things he had found to be their superiors being those that were more… Abominable.
The Cleric Beast on the bridge and the horror in the Grand Cathedral came to mind.
As did Gascoigne.
‘Father Gascoigne,’ Jaune corrected in his thoughts as he threw himself back to avoid another wild swipe. Jaune would not allow himself to forget the true scope of his failure, nor his ongoing cowardice, as he refused to go and confront Gascoigne’s daughter.
The girl he had made an orphan.
Jaune was forced to shake aside such thoughts as he lunged at the Scourge Beast that had overextended itself on its last lunge. Jaune darted to the side, around its still recovering limb; its jaws snapped at him but lacked the range to catch his person.
Jaune saw as he moved that to the side of the Beast was another iron wrought fence, the likes of which he had seen up in Central Yharnam, with their spiked caps and barred design. But these were warped, twisted and malformed, courtesy of the fires that had once ravaged the hamlet, and now the iron was bent and waned.
Jaune snarled as he lashed out with a kick, his boot’s heel slamming into the snout of the Scourge Beast with a crunch. The half screech of the Beast quickly overshadowed a pained bark and the sound of breaking cartilage as its eye was run through.
The wolf thing recoiled back towards Jaune, desperate to remove the metal that had stabbed into its eye socket. So desperate to move away from what had caused it such harm, the Beast didn’t spare a thought for the Hunter who had inflicted it nor their next blow.
Jaune’s axe sunk into the flesh of the Scourge Beast, its weight parting flesh and muscle and slicing into bone with ease. The Scourge Beast went limb-near instantly, with Jaune’s axe having nearly parted its head from its shoulders.
Sadly, this didn’t stop its momentum, leaving Jaune, for the moment, pinned between an old charred wall and a smelly dead Beast.
Jaune looked around for signs of danger, vulnerable as he was at present with his movement impaired-
But there was none… at least for the moment.
Jaune turned back to the Scourge Beast, half slumped on his legs and heaved it off. Its limp form rolled over, twitching as Jaune’s axe pressed into its nervous system. He looked toward the metal fence he had kicked the Beast onto and felt something like amusement as he considered it.
Yharnam architecture was indeed a dangerous thing.
Jaune stomped on the Scourge Beast’s skull and yanked his axe free, a fresh spray of blood staining his pant leg as he did. Jaune didn’t even blink; it was so common that he was covered in the fluids of those he slew.
He had cut a swathe through what remained of Old Yharnam; with no more Hunters inhabiting it, little could impede him. He had been methodical, and his entire purpose was dedicated to ensuring the eradication of all threats as he explored new streets and alleys.
His journey had been… fruitful.
He had uncovered a new route through the Valley Hamlet that would see him past the area previously policed by Djura entirely. He also found no shortage of materials, Blood Stones, Blood Gems and some spare gear to supplement his own.
He had also found other things that would require him to confer with Gehrman, but that was a matter for later.
Now was the time to reach his goal.
His feet crunched on overgrown, cracked stones as he made his way to the top of a set of soot-stained stairs. A small scuttling abomination with many legs and cloistered lumped flesh raced away, and Jaune noted its presence but did not give chase. Instead, he brought his torch over his head as he finally laid eyes on the site that held his much sought-after prize.
It was another church, Jaune having grown adept at recognising such structures, even those in dire states. This one was old and grand and once, no doubt, a place of great worship, just as all the others Jaune had witnessed. Yharnam seemed to pride itself on the grandeur of the faith as much as they did their miracle blood.
Jaune had found both to hide no shortage of darkness.
The one before Jaune was very dilapidated, with the roof collapsed in places and the walls missing sizeable chunks, exposing the internals to the elements. But despite this, Jaune couldn’t deny the image it painted, which was a colossal stone monument to the faith, which settled at the base of the valley. But it, like everything else in Old Yharnam, was but a burnt-out husk of what it once was.
Jaune began to walk down the steps, his torch held at the ready just as his axe was; he would suffer no further surprise attacks from this ruined hole. The Scourge Beast that had pounced atop him from within a home had learned that the hard way when Jaune forced a Molotov down its throat.
His arm had healed from the burns, but the Beast’s corpse was still blazing as he walked away.
Jaune’s eyes darted to yet another burning cross, as even here at the very bottom of the valley, Beasts were strung up and aflame. Smoke wafted off the crucified corpses and clung around the area, betwixt tall branches and overgrown grass.
There were things in the smoke… outlines that put Jaune’s nerves on edge.
But as he moved forward, waiting for the trap to be sprung… nothing happened. The Beasts remained sitting, heads bowed, around the burning crucified corpses of their likes.
The sight left him feeling as uneasy as the worshipping Beasts he had encountered earlier had.
At last, though, his foot settled on the entrance to the fire-scorched church, and Jaune could not dwell on the smoke dwellers a second longer. Not with the dark, ruined structure’s interior a mere step away, a mere threshold being all that separated Jaune from being within its confines.
Every instinct he had was screaming bloody murder.
He pulled down his cowl, exposing his nose to the clouded air and tried to see if he could smell something he could not yet see. But it was hopeless; the charred corpses and the smoke from the bonfires that ate at their blackened flesh made it impossible for him to smell what may lay within.
He returned his cowl to his place, the fabric not nearly enough to block out the stink of the charred corpse as he stepped into the ruins of the once-holy site.
… Something was breathing.
Jaune took in the interior cautiously. Lamps on the far walls were lit but did little to illuminate the vast expanse of the inside. Though covered in shadows and half concealed, the floor revealed grass tufts that had forced their way through old stones and scattered refuse piled to the sides. Small braziers were mounted on the sides of colossal stone pillars that remained to hold aloft the remnants of the roof like bones in a carcass.
Jaune saw ropes hanging between the pillars, and upon those ropes were strips of what he believed to be cloth, perhaps remnants of tapestries.
He also saw the altar at the far side of the church… and the shadow in front of it.
‘This is familiar,’ he thought spitefully as he looked between his torch and the distant foe.
He threw the torch down the centre, trusting his instincts that he would soon need his other hand filled with something more lethal than the light source. The Hunters Torch clattered on the stones before coming to a rest, but Jaune hardly heard it.
He was too distracted by what the flame had illuminated as it flew through the air.
Flesh.
What he had thought to be cloth hanging from the ropes was, in truth, large strips of flesh draped over the ropes as if they were clothes hung out to be dried.
Drip
Despite being as quiet as a whisper, the noise caused him to flinch as he looked down towards his feet. He saw that a singular drop of crimson red had spilled off the edge of his Hunter Axe and splattered across a lonesome brick.
A long scratching hiss echoed through the sprawling chamber, the noise dry enough that Jaune thought it might scratch the stones he stood upon.
He looked back towards the altar and saw that the shadow had moved from where it had been, its concealed shape inching closer still. When it reached the glow of his thrown torch, he saw the shadow in all its horrific glory.
The first thing he saw was a claw, thin and long, so much so that he at first thought it was naught but bone. It wasn’t until he saw the limb above it that he made sense of the sight when he spotted malt brown broken by pink.
Not red but pink.
The long, gangly limb was adorned with wounds that cut deep enough to leave furrows and grooves in the body… but there was no blood, just pink flesh. But that was just the beginning as the shadow took another step into the light, and then there was more pink than anything else.
The monster’s head came to rest before the torch's flame, and though cast in light, it remained concealed. Only the barest hints of an elongated snout were visible, as the creature's entire head was seemingly adorned in a shroud of pink, bloodless flesh.
The concealment was disturbing on a number of levels, but for Jaune, it was the familiarity that wound up taking the crowning spot. Pieces of a puzzle fell into place, and again, he felt something… throb in his skull as he recognised what was in front of him.
It was the same Beast he had seen the others praying to… or, more accurately, the same kind of Beast. Like the other, this one had its flesh flayed off of its body, but as it was not strung up, the strips hung over it, pink and raw.
But… that was not all that was familiar about this Beast; no, it was more the fact that the other Beasts had attempted to resemble it. His journey through Old Yharnam had been fraught with Beasts, but the vast majority were either sickly things wrapped in bandages or the larger ones who adorned themselves in shrouds and wielded poison.
‘Did… did they wear the shrouds in an effort to resemble this thing?’ Jaune thought as he tried to make sense of what seemed like madness.
As mad as a Beast praying.
What did Beasts pray to… what did they pray for?
Jaune didn’t like how these thoughts and questions made him feel, the idea that these savage Beast…
He could hear Djura’s words banging in his skull again, his parting words declaring him a Beast… declaring it all mad.
Drip
Another brick gained a splatter of red from the blood that worked its way off the edge of his axe, and just as before, a hiss from the flayed thing followed. Jaune’s eyes darted between his axe and the Beast as he found something to focus on other than the ugly truth.
Jaune held the axe out to the side and watched the Beast’s head turn, flayed flesh swaying with the motion. Jaune moved the axe back so it crossed over his body, and once more, the thing's head followed the motion.
Drip
Its head darted down… following the trail of the drop.
Jaune’s thoughts came to a violent halt as they slammed into one another, and he was confronted with two simultaneous yet equal truths.
Firstly, no matter how much he may try to ignore it… the Beasts were people, all of them, afflicted by the Beastly Scourge. He was killing people, Yharnamites one and all, and the Scourge hadn’t changed that they were still people.
Secondly, they would kill him… all of them would do so, despite Djura’s best wishes, despite a dead man's ardent hope for them to exist peacefully… any he crossed paths with would surely try to kill him.
And so he would kill them first.
Because what does a Beast pray to?
The answer is Blood.
Jaune flicked his axe and let another drop of red fall, and just as before, the passage of it was followed by the flayed abomination, utterly captivated.
Jaune grimaced and found that it wasn’t Djura’s words he was thinking of any longer; no, it was Gehrman’s. Jaune thought back to some of the first words the man had uttered during their first meeting.
‘Don't think too hard about all of this.’
‘Just go out and kill a few beasts.’
‘It's for your own good.’
‘You know, it’s just what Hunters do!’
‘You'll get used to it...’
“… Damn you Gehrman…” Jaune cursed as he filled his left hand with his firearm. For despite how the blase manner in which the man had communicated his wisdom… Jaune found them wise yet.
For his options were surrender, death and oblivion, repeatedly till madness took him… or to fight, kill and discover the Paleblood, all so that he might yet escape this hell.
And he would escape.
“I reckon you must be mighty thirsty to be captivated by such mere drops,” Jaune uttered, bringing his axe over his shoulder and drumming a finger against his pistol.
The Beast didn’t respond, but its head followed him, and Jaune knew it was watching him. Its breath caused the torch at its clawed feet to wave and flicker erratically.
“Well… why settle for a drop?”
Jaune swiped with his axe, the swing sending all the blood that had decorated its edge to scatter and fly off in an arc of red.
Some landed mere feet from the flayed monster, eliciting a far more explosive reaction. The thing reared up, its claws leaving the ground as it brought its upper body up, showing its actual height to be even greater than a Scourge Beast yet lesser than previous abominations.
Though Jaune wasn’t foolish enough to believe its lack in size would render it less threatening.
The flayed Beast let out a roar that was more of a prolonged booming scream, the screech of which had Jaune flinching away as it assaulted his ears. But he didn’t take his eyes off the monster for a second as he watched the new threat return to its quadrupedal stance and begin to stalk forward.
Jaune rolled his head around on his shoulders before something halfway between a grimace and a snarl took place beneath his cowl.
“Let’s do what Hunters do…”
YVYVYVYVY
Jaune liked to think he had a very firm grasp, or failing that, at least an awareness of all his many flaws. He did his best to keep them in check but knew he often failed. Still, he persevered, if for no other reason than to be his best for those around him.
After all, he knew one of his most significant flaws… was his rage.
His fury had festered and grown foul during his time in Yharnam, the horrors of the Eternal Night prodding at it like an open wound unrelentingly. He was well aware that during the ordeal, there had been little time for him to reckon with his worsening temper… little reason to either.
Hunters were creatures that pursued their prey with relentless fervour; speed and aggression were their allies as they descended on their quarry.
Jaune’s rage had found ample outlet, even encouragement, as he bathed in the blood of any and all that dared impede him. But… it had been tempered, forged into a tool, a weapon for him to wield with malicious savagery.
In the years following his return, his anger was something he felt but did not act on… for the most part. It stirred, conjured forth by the darker parts of his character, his restlessness originating from his own needs…
Though such things were not worries on this blood-soaked night.
Jaune’s eye bore holes through the groaning slab of meat that writhed in his grasp, one of their hands pitifully clutching about the wrist of the hand he held him aloft by. The other was failing to pull his thumb from where it had punched into the structure of his leg.
Jaune could hardly hear his utterances and pained whimpering as the blood thundered in his ears and his rage rode the currents of his veins. The slightest pressure had his quarry freezing, body rigid as they strained every tendon, and a gag of hurt worked out of their chest.
“Was that all you could accomplish?” Jaune spoke, his voice low but easily heard by all present. “This is the strength of one who would sick the Grimm on a city… how unsurprising.”
The coward in his grasp didn’t speak, his bloodshot eyes looking at Jaune through heavy lids with spite and madness, barely conscious and heavily disorientated.
Jaune released his hold on the Faunus’s leg, the White Fang member snarling in pain as he swung, the pull on his hair no doubt tugging on his scalp painfully. Jaune looked over the beaten body before him with a critical gaze. He lifted the bloodied body higher, unblinkingly, as he hefted his victim above his head.
“Three pounds…” Jaune snarled lowly, the Faunus in his grasp groaning as he clawed at Jaune’s wrist wildly. His nails met flesh, but if Jaune felt any discomfort from his weak efforts, it didn’t show as he continued his observation.
His head filled with rushing blood as his eyes finally settled on a single spot on the struggling baboon’s abdomen. His blood thrummed as he brought his right arm up, his elbow bending as his fingers shifted. Each beat of his heart slammed against his ribs in anticipation, the muscles of his arm bulging beneath his skin.
Behind him, he heard the concrete scrape as something hurried away from him. Jaune ignored it as he curled his fingers as if claws and his eyes finally darted up to meet the terrified, bloodshot yellow eyes with his own.
His left hand released its hold.
The Baboon Faunus dropped.
Jaune's right arm, decorated in violent, slashing ink and eldritch Runes coated in blood and essence… launched forward.
Jaune’s Visceral Attack drove his fingers through soft, pliable flesh and corded muscles deep into the Faunus’s abdominal cavity. Blood splattered across his face, but his blue eyes didn’t so much as squint at the oncoming crimson spray.
The baboon’s pain was expressed in the widening of his eyes, the slackening of his jaw, and the wind brutally shunted from his lungs as Jaune’s hand wrapped around his insides. His body was held aloft, impaled for the moment and folded around Jaune’s arm, blood already raining over the limb and to the floor below.
Jaune felt his clawed fingers hook around their target.
His three pounds of flesh.
He wrenched his arm downward and tore his prize free of the cage of meat that encased it, blood spurting anew as Jaune mauled the Faunus’s flesh as he removed his hand. The White Fang member fell limply to the floor, blood painting the concrete around them as they gasped and choked, abdomen spasming.
Jaune looked to his arm, drenched in warm lifeblood as the nighttime air cooled it to his flesh, his eyes focusing on what he now held tightly in his grasp.
A mangled and mauled liver… roughly three pounds of flesh.
Jaune pried his eyes away from the bloody organ to look at the one it had come from; their brutalised body slumped on the lip of the building, their legs twitching as they gasped.
‘Still alive,’ Jaune noted, neither surprised nor disappointed. His observation was seemingly echoed by a noise from over the edge of the building, a barking cry. Jaune stepped forward, blood sloshing over his toes as he peered down to the streets below.
A score of glowing crimson eyes looked right back.
Inspiration struck.
Jaune reached down with his left hand, wrapping his fist around the White Fang’s throat and hauling him off the ground with contemptuous ease. Blood and guts ran free from the gaping hole he had torn into his torso, but Jaune couldn't care less for the coating of gore that layered his body. It was but one more drop in the proverbial ocean.
“… I am glad you did not die,” Jaune stated plainly, holding the White Fang aloft. “It would have been rude for you to depart without being a good host to your guests.”
Jaune dangled the Faunus over the edge of the building, his guts hanging by his feet and dripping blood down onto the waiting Grimm below.
“Now… feed your Beasts,” Jaune spat.
He let go.
Jaune watched him fall, watched this lunatic who had in one night killed countless, destroying homes and families and revelling in it as a triumph. Jaune watched as he fell into the waiting monsters below, his body not even making contact with the ground before they were upon him.
Jaune watched as a myriad of Grimm pulled him out of the air, thrashing and pulling with their claws and teeth-laden jaws. Jaune watched as his near gutless, broken body was ripped into hunks of bloodied flesh. His life, already forfeited by his actions, was finally and brutally ended by the monsters he sicked on others.
“Fitting,” Jaune intoned, lazily tossing the White Fang’s liver into the frenzied mass below.
The sound of someone throwing up made Jaune turn and face the other Faunus on the roof, who was on all fours, emptying his stomach. Jaune looked at the other Faunus inquisitively, the fox being something of an oddity given the current situation.
Jaune looked at the only other thing of real note on the roof, a bag and its contents, which had likely been scattered across the roof during the Faunus’s fight. Jaune eyed the pistol that had also been cast aside during the battle, keeping its location relative to the fox in mind.
Reaching the bag, Jaune looked through the contents to find an assortment of items, including a jacket, some food, a water bottle… ammo, a radio…
A mask.
A mask made to look as if it belonged to a Grimm.
Jaune looked at the fox, the young Faunus no longer heaving but instead trying to right his breathing. Jaune didn’t miss how his eyes darted to him, fear exuding from his expression as he looked at Jaune kneeling over the bag's contents.
Jaune picked the jacket up, his bloodstained hands quickly smearing red on the article of clothing as he brought it up to his nose.
He breathed in…
His rage ignited anew.
A long, inhuman growl escaped Jaune’s chest as he rose to his full height and let his Arc blue eyes pierce the terrified Faunus on the ground.
“W-w-wait…” the young Faunus stuttered, shuffling back on his hands and knees, his ears furling down against his head as his heart began to race.
Jaune took a single step forward, flexing his right bloodstained hand. The veins on his back seemed to bulge beneath his skin. The boy’s fear grew as he watched Jaune approach in the dark, his night vision granting him enough sight to see the blood-stained giant closing in.
“W-wait!” the Faunus tried again, his voice breaking as he rolled onto his back, dragging himself further under the water tower.
Jaune took another step.
“You… are White Fang…” Jaune spoke, words damning as his rage and bloodlust screamed out for him to pull the cowering fox in half. He felt his rage spread like an oppressive heat in his head as his bloodlust once more sang in the alluring tones that preyed on hunger.
“I- I do-“ the fox couldn’t get the words out, tripping over himself as he tried to formulate a response.
Jaune was in front of the water tower now, the tall blond having to hunch to get under it as he continued to close the distance.
“I-I tried,” the fox managed to whisper shakily.
His words made Jaune stop, his hunched frame hovering over the smaller Faunus, seeming to box him in entirely. Their feet were nearly touching, and if Jaune wanted to, all he would need to do was step forward, and he could pin the smaller male to the ground. From there… he had options, but the boy's words snuck through the rage and bloodlust, eliciting a new feeling.
“What… did you say?” Jaune hissed, eyes cold, fury held at bay by his iron will.
The young Faunus was shaking, coated in filth, pale and sickly with bloodshot red eyes… but he still managed to answer.
“I tried… I tried to stop him,” the fox whispered, grief in his voice.
“… Why?”
The fox looked hurt at Jaune’s question, but the blond didn’t so much as twitch, remaining as a wall of rage as he loomed over the younger male.
The fox took a moment to think before replying succinctly, “T-this is my home…”
Jaune’s eyes narrowed.
The young Faunus was quick on the uptake and forced himself to speak his case, though his words came out choppy. “I-I live here; Bastion is my home; it always has been… I tried to protect it, I-I fought Simon- I nearly died-“
Jaune briefly glanced over his shoulder, “You failed.”
The words may as well have physically struck the young Faunus, “… I did.”
Jaune sniffed and gestured with his head, “Yet you still pursued that one?”
The Faunus’s expression evolved as deep and searing hate bloomed into being for a flash before the storm of other emotions tempered it. “He had to pay…”
“You hunted your own,” Jaune stated, his words expressed as mere fact.
Jaune watched as the truth of his words struck home. He watched on as the boy, at first, seemed confused, but then with understanding came resistance… finally acknowledgment. Jaune watched as something in him changed; something hardened.
The fox licked his lips, “Not mine… he wasn’t one of mine.”
“But you are White Fang, as was he.”
“… I am not like him,” the fox denied.
Jaune wasn’t having it.
“Don’t lie,” Jaune warned, “you wanted to kill him… had he not been your better, you would have when you fought him.”
The Faunus’s large ears shot up, a combination of indignation and offence clear in his dark eyes before he looked away. “So I am as bad as him for wanting justice?”
Jaune quickly shook his head in the negative, “I am not here to argue morality with you, fox; I am merely here to remind you that your friend was a White Fang member, the same as you.”
The fox would have had to have been deaf to have missed the threat in those words, and even then, he would have seen it as Jaune shifted his posture.
“This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to be; the White Fang aren’t supposed to-“
A scoff cut the fox off at the knees, “Do. Not. Lie.” Jaune reiterated. “Or is there some threshold for violence someone need pass before you deem them as ‘wrong’… or is it all right when it is humans?” The growl in Jaune’s voice had the Faunus in question stiffening as his whole body was a tense rubber band ready to snap.
“We aren’t like that… we are protectors; we exist to fight and defend the rights of all Faunus,” the fox declared, his words obviously rehearsed.
The dogmatic recital was like nails down a chalkboard for Jaune.
“Spare me the showcasing of your indoctrination; I was present for your group's attack on the studio building. I am under no illusions as to your nature, White Fang,” Jaune hissed.
The fur of the fox's ears was standing up.
“I- We- That… that attack was against one of our enemies, an enemy to all Faunus,” the fox tried, wildly grasping for a point.
“It has made them a new one, this I can assure you,” Jaune snapped fiercely, the promise of violence a mere breath away.
The fox was silent.
Jaune was not.
“You defend them? Even as the home you spoke of burns, your neighbours lay dead, and as we speak, monsters rule the streets… you defend them?” Jaune questioned, his head tilting, “Can you not see?”
In a fit of spontaneous and explosive fury, Jaune drove his clenched fist into one of the legs of the water tower, warping the solid metal. “All that blame you lay at Simon’s feet means little to nothing! In the same action, you stain the very organisation you champion with your next breath!” Jaune raged.
“You cannot separate the two! It was the White Fang who welcomed that madman into their ranks! The White Fang allowed him to act in this manner, to wield their name at his leisure and to your detriment!” Jaune thundered.
“That bastard was White Fang! Their soldier, their crime! The White Fang bear responsibility for this atrocity as much as Simon… and you are White Fang,” Jaune condemned, ending his spiteful rant.
Each of his spoken words hammered home with such finality that it left the young Faunus reeling. By the end, the fox, a mere teenager, was left slumped, a hand pressed over his mouth as his eyes looked at nothing. Jaune, for his part… was displeased. He felt something talking to the boy; now he knew what it was.
Recognition… He knew what the teen was going through, having endured something like it himself whilst under the banner of the Hunters. He had wound up painted with the same brush many Hunters were, and it was not until later that he realised the full scope of such a fact.
But by that point… he had his own sins.
“I know…”
Jaune looked at the fox with interest, his words bringing him back from a dark place.
The kid looked shattered, his face set in a rigour of rage as tears welled in his eyes, and he looked ready to fall apart. But despite this, he spoke, “I asked before why he was even a part of us… the answers were always different and never good enough. But… Simon wasn’t even the worst of it.”
Jaune watched, face a mask, as the kid unravelled.
“I am only here because the White Fang, my White Fang, the White Fang that raised me, existed. They took me in as an infant, fed me, cared for me, raised me,” the fox spat, the fur about his ears flaring as he bunched up his hands.
The Fox Faunus looked up and met Jaune’s gaze, and this time, there was no sudden rigidity, no fear, just a silent moment of communication. “I’m not stupid, and I’m not blind. I could see it change, or maybe I did… doesn’t matter,” he dismissed with a shake of his head.
“I grew up in the White Fang, was fed stories of the White Fang… dreamed of being White Fang,” the fox explained, pounding a hand against his chest. “But… their pitch was too good, the reality couldn’t match it. I watched the Fang change, the rose-tinted glasses cracking a bit more each year.”
“You're right. They knew about Simon. He was one of many, perhaps the worst, but I am sure there were others… And… I don’t think I want to be…”
‘Lost.’ That’s all Jaune could think, looking at the young man in front of him, his ears down, his eyes pleading, his posture defeated…
Jaune looked away from the young Faunus to hide how affected he was by the slurry of memories of his lowest moments.
Then, an insidious and slippery idea managed to worm its way through all the old hurt.
‘Jade would save him.’
Jaune shook his head, repressing a growl as he thought about how foolish that idea was.
‘He’s young.’
Jaune again felt his frustrations rise as his thoughts again betrayed him. This didn’t stop his eyes darting over to the young Faunus… and he was young. Perhaps closer to Jade’s age than Jaune’s, but a distinct youthfulness to his face marked him as yet still a child.
‘What’s one more body...’
Jaune sighed as he exited from beneath the water tower, his eyes tracking how the distant gunfire carved paths through the dark, smoke-laden sky. A veritable chorus of monstrous noises was booming through the night air, many now closer than before.
Jaune breathed in the air and inhaled the myriad of scents, his body reacting nearly instantaneously to the powerful combination of danger and death. The air was soaked with blood and death, fire and destruction, and through it all, the oddness was the Grimm.
Jaune’s nose itched as he could make out the sheer unnaturalness of the soulless abominations.
Then there was a breeze.
It was cool enough to be soothing and carried the faintest hints of the ocean as it brushed across Jaune’s gore-coated form.
Jaune found himself sighing again as he came to a decision.
“… What is your name?”
The teen Faunus looked up, confused, “Huh?”
Jaune resisted the urge to sigh again, “Your name?”
“Oh,” the fox mumbled before speaking louder, “Ah, it's Oto, Oto Kiba.”
Jaune’s eye twitched, “… Kiba? Your last name… is ‘Fang’?”
The newly introduced Oto gave a half-shrug, “I told you, the White Fang raised me.”
Jaune could only blink at the Fox Faunus, “Right… I don’t possess the right frame of mind to process that information, so I will be ignoring it for the time being.”
“Umm, okay?”
Jaune nodded, “Outstanding, come with me.”
It was now Oto’s turn to be the confused one, his dark eyes narrowing in suspicion, “What?”
Jaune didn’t react to his caution, “You can remain here if you wish, but I warn you that when the Hoard finally breaks, this area will become dangerous.”
The screech of a Nevermore cut through any response Oto could make as Jaune snapped into action. With a move practised countless times across an Eternal Night, Jaune drew his Saw Spear from the Mist and transformed it all in one motion. The long, serrated weapon unfurled as it swung up, its brutal edge rending through the avian Grimm with little resistance.
As the pieces of the Grimm crashed around the roof, Jaune saw fit to rectify his previous statement, “More dangerous…”
Oto licked his lips before speaking, “So… you’re not going to kill me?”
Jaune didn’t answer at first, instead posing a question of his own: “The studio building attack… what was your part in it?” Jaune made sure to ask his question as neutrally as possible, but sadly, his efforts were somewhat undercut by the fact that he was still holding his Saw Spear covered in Grimm ‘blood’.
With an audible gulp, Oto answered, “I was backup, in case the target made it out of the building via airship… You can check it for yourself; it's in the book there, though it's somewhat coded.”
Jaune turned to glance at where Oto pointed but didn’t bother going over to the book in question. He could piece together the truth of the Fox Faunus’s words by the other items on the roof, most damningly, the rocket launcher.
“Your target?” Jaune pressed.
“A Schnee.”
Jaune’s brows furrowed, “The singer?”
The fox seemed surprised by his question, “Ah n-no, I don’t think so. I was just told it was a Schnee of the SDC, maybe a relative?”
“Hm,” Jaune hummed non-committedly as he knew little and less about the SDC other than the multitude of products they produce.
However, Jaune's response left Oto feeling distinctly uncertain, “So…?”
“… Are you White Fang?” Jaune’s question was as blunt as a hammer blow to the head.
Oto walked out from under the water tower, taking a noticeably more significant step over the puddle of his vomit. Jaune observed as the other boy’s gaze eventually landed on the puddle of blood, which was all that was left of Simon. His eyes darted between Jaune and the puddle before his head looked towards the district's blazing interior.
“I don’t think I can be,” Oto answered, the flicker of distant flames dancing in his eyes.
Jaune nodded, “Then you have nothing to fear of me this night.”
Oto looked up at Jaune, confused, “You are… odd.”
“I am aware. Now come. I have somewhere to be, and if you remain here, you are likely to die,” Jaune instructed, turning and walking towards the edge of the roof in the direction of the Breach.
Oto straightened up, “Right, let’s go. I wanna put this place behind me.”
Oto nearly walked straight into an arm as Jaune blocked his way with a deathly serious expression, “Don’t do that.”
“Huh?” was all Oto managed to get out before Jaune continued.
“You don’t get to move on from this, not like that, not so easily… this will stick with you forever,” Jaune warned, his blue orbs darting back towards the distant flames. “Don’t ignore it… use it.”
Oto didn’t try to argue; he couldn’t, not when he was purposefully not looking towards the flames, yet… he could still see them ravaging the high-rise buildings. He knew that he would see them for a long time to come and hear the monstrous howls of the Creatures of Grimm in the silence no matter when.
“I-… right, sorry,” Oto apologised.
“Don’t apologise. Just remember. Remember so that next time… you don’t have to,” Jaune advised.
Jaune said no more as he heard the sound of heavy wing beats, his head snapping up as he looked for the source.
Then he smiled; it was not kind.
A thunderous screech of monstrous rage exploded overhead as a hulking winged shadow carved through the night, bellowing. Particularly startled, Oto ended up hopping into Jaune’s side, but the taller Blonde was uncaring, as he only had eyes for the foe above.
It was a Nevermore, an alpha, and a very familiar one at that. It was the one that had slammed him into a building and left him impaled upon a pipe. Jaune knew this as soon as it flew over him, his vision cutting through the dark with ease to spot the mutilated underside of the beast.
Jaune spoke aloud, glad there was something to focus on besides the memories Oto had dragged up. “Well, aren’t you resilient!”
“Huh!?”
Jaune took his eyes off the maimed Grimm, “Me and it are acquainted,” Jaune answered succinctly.
There was no time for replies as a volley of plumage rained down on them, the near man-size feathers slamming around the rooftop. Jaune didn’t react beyond moving Oto two feet to the left as a feather slammed into the ground before him.
“Fuck!”
“Calm down,” Jaune scolded, “Can you run?”
Oto made a choking noise as he coughed up an answer, “Yeah?”
“Good, keep up.”
Nothing more was said as Jaune turned and began to sprint as fast as he could, clearing the roof in a mere few steps and bounding across to the next one. Only he wasn’t heading towards the Breach anymore. Instead, he had his eyes on another destination.
“Where are-“ Oto started to speak but had to focus on leaping as he was forced to run as fast as he could to not fall behind Jaune. Only his experience with doing such gave him even a chance.
“Up!” Jaune called back, his eyes following the Alpha Nevermore as it banked its remaining eye pinned on his person. Jaune was glad for it; for his plan to work, he was banking on the creature, realising its ranged attacks were utterly ineffective.
With the snap of a wing, another hail of lethal feathers fired down, but Jaune was ready, pivoting on the spot and rolling behind a vent. For his part, Oto was less graceful but dove onto Jaune to take advantage of his cover.
When the plumage ceased raining down, Jaune quickly pushed Oto off so that he could look at the sky again. The Nevermore was circling again, screeching loudly, and Jaune was not naïve as to why.
“Um, scary guy!” Oto shouted warningly, slapping Jaunes arm for attention. Jaune looked back, unsurprised that a pair of Beowolves had climbed onto the rooftop.
Jaune hauled Oto up to his feet. “We need a clear rooftop so the big one swoops down,” Jaune informed his new hanger-on.
“What!”
“Run!” Jaune barked, ignoring Oto’s exclamation.
Jaune possessed neither the time nor the inclination to explain the fullness of his plan at the moment, not when he had to focus on other things. Now, with two Beowolves on their tail, Jaune slowed down, only so he could be closer to Oto should he need to be.
The Beowolves' heads snapped to them as soon as Oto had yelled out in shock. Jaune dragged the boy the first few steps before he got his feet under him. They moved quickly, clearing three more buildings before Jaune heard what he was waiting for the crisp snap of a powerful downstroke.
But there was no cover on this roof to hide behind.
“Get down!” Jaune roared loud enough that he saw Oto’s ears pressed against his scalp in discomfort.
Oto’s reaction was practically instantaneous, with the smaller Faunus diving onto his front, hands covering his head.
Jaune halted, his foot sliding as he twisted on the spot, fighting against his own momentum. His left hand dipped into the Mist, fingers wrapping about the large familiar grip of something with enough stopping power for his impromptu plan to work.
In a blur of grey, he pulled free his Blunderbuss and pointed it at the chest of one of the Beowolves.
The crack of the Blunderbuss ripped through the air, and a shower of hot Quicksilver slammed into the Grimm to devastating effect. Blackened flesh split and burst and bone armour cracked and chipped, but most of all, the Grimm’s forward momentum was snatched away… While it was still between buildings.
Jaune watched it disappear, its bleeding form vanishing over the edge as it plummeted down to the alley below. Jaune’s gun fell with it. He turned his attention to the remaining Grimm that landed on the roof and immediately shifted its posture as it readied to pounce.
Jaune was ready.
Its body hurtled through the air, arms outstretched, tipped with bone-white claws eager to be bloodied, its maw open wide with strings of saliva dangling from the teeth.
The Beowolf should have looked up.
Jaune ducked low, avoiding the lethal claws of the Beowolf, and sprung up to drive his enclosed fist deep into the Beowolf’s sternum. Jaune’s fist indented itself into the monster's body with a wet crunch, allowing Jaune a half-decent handhold. His left hand quickly came up to latch around the wolf monster's throat as he lifted it above his head.
The Grimm did not have time to resist as no less than three large projectiles slammed into its back and ravaged its insides. The Grimm slumped in Jaune’s grip, but the blond did not drop it to the floor.
He couldn’t; the thing was pinned to his arm.
“Hey, wha- Your arm!” Oto exclaimed as he looked up from the ground and saw a large black barb jutting out from Jaune's arm, a dribble of red running down its length.
“It's fine,” Jaune dismissed, slamming the Beowolf’s corpse into the ground, his foot wedging against its abdomen as he ripped his arm back, freeing it. Blood arced up from his violent jerking movement, some of it splattering in front of a very confused Oto.
The young Fox Faunus began to mumble out loud, “But I could have sworn you had-“
“It’s coming! On your feet!” Jaune snapped, his hand disappearing into the Mist once more as he kept an eye on the approaching form of the Alpha Nevermore.
Oto did as he was told, pushing up off the ground, his hands clenched and shaking. He, too, looked into the night sky and saw the shadowy giant hurtling towards them. Jaune was far calmer, almost eager, as with a flick, he whipped out a weapon with a flourish that brought it to rest on his shoulder.
He resisted the urge to rest his cheek on it.
“A cane?”
Jaune didn’t answer verbally, slamming the but of the cane against the ground again, causing its length to open up, revealing rows of metal teeth. Jaune forced himself to ignore the comfort of holding yet another piece of his arsenal as he reached out and grabbed a fistful of Oto’s shirt.
“He-“
“When I say jump, do so,” Jaune ordered, bending his legs as he flicked his Threaded Cane out, letting it stretch to its full length before falling slack.
“Wait, jump! What are you planning?” Oto yelped, his head bouncing between Jaune and the much closer Alpha Grimm.
“Round two,” Jaune answered.
“That doesn’t-
“Jump!”
Oto screamed in sheer panic as he jumped as high as his Aura-enhanced legs could, “Fuck!”
His scream was swallowed up by the demonic shriek of the Alpha Nevermore as its beak, wide and gaping, closed in on where he was moments before. Jaune, now airborne, swung his arm around in a familiar arc, letting the length of his Threaded Cane twist back before snapping forward.
The weapon's length swung down, sharpened teeth biting into already slick flesh as new wounds joined the previous ones. But it was the old wounds that Jaune had swung at, specifically a noticeable stretch along the creature's neck where the feathers had been scratched off…
Right above its wing.
The Threaded Cane’s teeth slid into and through flesh, Grimm ‘blood’ spilling from the open gash. It carved along Nevermore’s throat, blackening itself in its essence uninhibited until it finally reached its shoulder.
The whip-like weapon hooked on the joint, its journey ending in a savage jolt.
Jaune wrenched on the Threaded cane, heaving with all his might and violently pulling himself back down in a rapid descent. His feet smacked into the creature’s back, between its wings, his grip on Oto not slackening for an instant as he fought against the multitude of forces that sought to unbalance him.
But he remained surefooted.
“Are you insane!”
Jaune looked over his shoulder and saw Oto’s terrified face; his hands fisted in two tufts of the avian Grimm’s feathers.
“Oh, good, you grabbed on,” Jaune spoke more to himself than the additional passenger. “I need my other hand, don’t let go.”
“No shit!” Oto roared over the sound of the howling wind, his face half pressed into the Nevermore’s feathers.
Jaune frowned at the rude response, dropping Oto’s bunched shirt and the boy letting out a squeak as the wind hit him full force. Jaune jabbed his left hand into the Mist, his hand quickly wrapping about a handle nearly identical to the one held in his right but simultaneously so very different.
Jaune made to transform his weapon, but the Grimm was not pleased to have passengers again and let out a screech of fury as it shuddered. The hulking bird monstrosity began to twist its body, its left wing dipping, and Jaune knew it would try to roll.
He would not allow it.
With a snarl that carried with it the entirety of his frustrations that had built up over the night, Jaune tugged as hard as he could on the Threaded Cane hooked on the Grimm’s right wing. This immediately threw off its flight as the thing bellowed and halted in its attempt to roll to regain control. Oto’s screaming accompanied this as the Fox Faunus had his eyes tightly shut and was frightened by the sudden erratic movement of the Nevermore.
Jaune was grateful for the wind as he barely heard the younger male’s cries of panic.
With a snap accented by the sound of a Trick Weapon undergoing its transformation, the Threaded Can in his left hand swung out around his head. Jaune did this twice to get a feel as he aimed his swing, then he brought his arm down, and the whip carved through the rushing air.
The Alpha Nevermore let out another screeching roar of pain as Jaune’s second Threaded Cane wedged into the joint of its left wing.
The weapon reacted to the feel of rent flesh much differently than the Saw Cleaver he had used earlier. This one was not nearly as picky, letting out a hiss that Jaune felt more than heard.
‘This ought to be curious,’ Jaune thought, knowing well what this particular weapon was best suited for.
Jaune shook off his curiosity to better focus on the task at hand. With a powerful stomp to ground himself and a flare of red unseen in his eyes, Jaune wrenched back on both Threaded Canes simultaneously.
The result was everything he had hoped for.
Just as before, the Nevermore reacted, doing what it could to ease the damage of Jaune’s manipulations. This time, though, Jaune had far more control and his ‘reins’ were far more sturdy, if not more brutally effective.
Confident he could direct the Creature of Grimm, Jaune leaned back and turned his head to the cowering Faunus. “Oi, Oto!”
“No!”
Jaune scowled, passing the Threaded Cane in his right hand to his left before reaching back and flicking the Fox Faunus’s ear. “Fox! I can focus on controlling the Grimm, or I can force you to communicate! Which would you prefer?”
The fox shivered, “S-sorry, right, shit- Okay, W-what?” He eked out barely audible save for Jaune’s exceptional hearing, looking up slightly but still keeping himself flattened as much as possible.
“I-“
The Grimm shrieked.
“Quiet!” Jaune roared, tugging on the twin canes. This had the opposite effect, as the Nevermore cried out and led to Jaune catching a fresh splatter of inky Grimm ‘blood’ across his brow. The growl Jaune let out was lost to the wind, but the look on his face was enough for Oto to shiver again.
“What is south of Bastion?” Jaune inquired loudly.
Oto was smart enough to think about what the blond had asked him instead of just blurting out another ‘huh’. Thinking of what he knew about the blond and his intention to leave Bastion meant he must have a destination in mind: somewhere south of the city. He didn’t need to think long about the matter as he realised that there was one location south of Bastion that would be the obvious choice for waiting out the night.
“Airbase! Atlesian!”
Jaune blinked at that, something like a smile on his face as he thought of his sisters in a secure location. ‘Good job, girls,’ Jaune thought happily as he turned back to face forward, holding a weapon in each hand once more.
Jaune let off on the weapons somewhat, the Nevermore levelling out and stopping its slow ascent.
“Hold on, it won't be a long trip, but I doubt it will be smooth!” Jaune warned.
Oto let out some kind of affirmation, acknowledging Jaune’s words as the Alpha Nevermore gurgled and began to bank to the right, Jaune allowing it so he might see where they were.
Then, the bullets started flying.
Jaune leaned so far back that his torso was nearly perpendicular to the creature he rode atop. He realised he should have been paying more attention to where they were flying.
They had flown over Bastion’s inner walls.
Comments
Jimmy_Mac217
Okay I only saw this today but it was released back in October? What the heck?
Bright Ops
...I feel like Jaune kind of has to become a Huntsmen... if only because it is the only career that would accept his breed of insanity while also pleasing his murder lust. It's either that or becoming a crime boss/serial killer... And I feel like Jaune would consider the latter to be betrayals and becoming the worst of the hunters he encountered.
Nine
I really like Jaune and Oto. Hope he adopts him, or at least helps Oto become a hunter/anything else. I find it very funny that Jaune hasn’t realized he has aura yet.
decimator 66
Hehe I like how he realized that he might have just made a wrong turn while effectively piloting a fucking Grimm into the inner city bastion….only Jaune could somehow do that
Master Zen
Damn didn't know Jaune was proficient in aviation lol
MalachiaDemon
Nora will be jealous of this event.
LOLZMAN
Is he collecting a pet for his sister jade?
Erik Johanson
Well, I see Jaune & Oto pulled a Ruby & Weiss, riding a Nevermore. Good for them. Very good chapter this. Jaune's words about the White Fang were wonderful. I kind of want to see him toss those in the face of Blake, Go, ruin the worldview of the shitty kitty!!
Istyatur Elestel
Please let someone have captured video of Juane riding an alpha nevermore. And sent it to Orr.
