RWBY: Dark/Bad to Worse

The transport hummed loudly as it zoomed through the skies over Vale. The pilot checked his readings, then turned to his copilot.

“Everything’s good here. You can go back and tell the boss we’ll be arriving on schedule, no interruptions,” he said.

“Aye, sir,” the copilot said. He switched all control to the pilot, then quickly rose from his seat and began a brisk pace out of the cockpit and out into the passenger section of the ship.

The ship was small, but lavishly fancy, with a stainless white interior that shone like polished marble. During the day, when the sun hit it just right, the entire cabin would be illuminated with a vibrant glow. There were few seats, but every one of them was made from the finest and most expensive smooth black leather, and seated before polished granite tabletops. The bar was located towards the back, filled with drinks (both alcoholic and not) of every sort on almost invisible glass shelves.

At the center of this luxurious transport was the massive white seat. Employees and servants liked to call it a “throne”, though the boss’ actual throne was back at company headquarters in Atlas.

The boss was seated in the throne, her legs crossed and her face resting on a tight fist. Her ever-permanent frown remained as hard and as uninviting as ever, while her ice-cold blue eyes peered emotionless out one of the spotless windows, observing the night sky and the gleaming stars.

She huffed. Stars. What stupid, trivial things. She had no problem with their existence, there was nothing even she could do about that. She hated how the peasants, hell, even the elite, treated them. They stare at the stars like they are the ultimate unachievable goal, like they are distant rays of hope. Some are even dumb enough to wish upon them. But she saw stars for what they were: cold, distant, and utterly useless specks of light that meant nothing to anyone, and were inspirations of false hope. Why look to the stars when you should be focused on what’s in front of you? Idiots.

She was so lost in thought that she did not even notice the copilot emerge from the cockpit until he was almost at her feet. As per her orders, he kneeled.

“Madame Schnee, we are almost to our destination and are on schedule,” he said. “We will arrive shortly.”

She sighed. “Good. Make doubly sure he told his cronies we are coming. We don’t want a repeat of last time.”

The copilot nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Wiess Schnee waved her hand. “You are dismissed.”

The copilot rose, then bowed. “Thank you, Madame Schnee.” He then clicked his heels and turned sharply back to the cockpit, soon vanishing back inside.

Wiess sighed again, having not removed her eyes from the windows during the entire exchange.

Stars.

It had been a pretty good day.

Not as good as she planned, but still pretty damn good. She not only got to kill someone, but it was someone she had wanted to kill for a long time. Not only that, but she killed her in such a gruesome way! She even said she would “slice her in half”. What are the odds that that would actually be how she died?

Ruby chuckled at the thought. So what if she lost the others? She would just have to get them later. But killing that ice cream girl (What was her name again? Rocky Road or Cupcake or something?) was enough to satisfy her for the night. She could have probably floated home she was so happy and excited. She’d get to clean Crescent Rose (that was one of her favorite pastimes) and just drool over how satisfying that kill had been.

It had been a pretty damn good day.

Ruby was modest when it came to living conditions; she did not need much to please her. A little abandoned shack of a house was all she needed while she was visiting Vale. It was dark, dirty, decrepit, and depressing. Just the way she liked it. It was a bit far from where she had encountered those survivors, but she decided she could use the exercise.

Ruby skipped up to the worn wooden door. She turned the handle and quickly opened it, hopping inside and slamming the door behind her. She hoped it would attract Grimm.

The first thing she heard after the slam was the clinking of a chain, then a low moaning.

“I’m home!” Ruby yelled, her mouth in a massive happy grin and her eyes scrunched into an evil stare. She sloppily folded up Crescent Rose just so she could fit it through the doorway, when skipped into the adjacent room.

“M-m-m-istress…” the voice on the other end of the room gasped. The speaker’s raspy voice reflected her damaged and choked throat. The chain clinked again, as the speaker pushed themselves against the wall in a cowering, shaken position.

“Yep yep,” Ruby said. “What a day, what a day, what a day.”

She fell lazily onto the abandoned couch in the center of the room. Some loving family probably watched television here before the bombings. Or some dirty hobo, she had no idea. She quickly opened her scythe, its metallic parts clinking and clanking into place. The other person cowered further down.

Ruby reached over next to the couch and grabbed her bottle of cleaner and a rag. She unscrewed the cap, then dumped a generous amount onto the dirty scrap of paper. She took a brief moment to take in the smell: that beautiful, toxic smell, before positioning the scythe blade just in front of her, sticking up vertically. Careful of the edge, she slowly began stroking the metal with the rag, smearing the blood and beginning to dilute it.

As she wiped her blade, she happened to glance at her feet. Her boots were covered in a thick coat of her victim’s blood. While bloody boots could be a pretty intimidating fashion statement, she decided against it.

“Slave!” She suddenly cried, startling the other and causing her to jump. She opened her mouth and was about to answer, but wheezed. Her throat hut too much. The collar was too tight.

Ruby’s silver eyes suddenly snapped over to her captive in a look of disgust and fury. “Yang Xiao Long, I am f*cking talking to you! Answer me right f*cking now!”

The other choked and gasped, but swallowed and managed a loud whisper. “Y-y-yes, Mis-s-stress?”

Ruby’s wild eyes drifted back to her work. “My boots are dirty. Clean them. You know how.”

Yang wheezed. She groaned in agony as she scooted along the floor in an attempt to find her slaver. The chain rattled as she extended it away from its anchor point.

“Come on, hurry up!” Ruby yelled again. “It’s not like you need eyes to find my feet, they’re on the ground with you!”

Yang scooted closer to the source of the voice. It was her only way to navigate in her world on permanent darkness. She could not even reach out with her arms to feel around. Ruby took those too.

Finally, she felt contact with Ruby’s foot knocking into her head. She struggled to raise herself from the ground, as without arms it all had to be done in her abdomen. She twisted and wriggled until she was positioned in front of Ruby’s boots, her head raised above them. Even without her eyes, she could feel Ruby’s impatient and judgmental stare beating down on her.

Slowly, Yang extended her sore tongue and gently placed it onto Ruby’s boot. The taste was disgusting; dirt, blood, and foul-smelling fabric. However, she had a duty to do. She ran her tongue across the boot, licking until the taste of blood dissipated, then pulled back and licked again.

Ruby smirked. Pathetic. Her once strong and powerful sister, reduced to this. It was so pleasing. She made Yang her little slave bitch the moment she cut off her arms and eyes. And that was right after she had killed her parents. Now that was a good day.

Ruby focused her attention back to her weapon, rubbing out the blood with the rag as Yang continued to lick the spilled blood and dirt off of her boots. Killing might be her favorite hobby, but the routine after the kill was not too bad either.

It really had been a f*cking good day.

Cinder sat with her head in her hands, covering her eyes. Every time she thought she had stopped crying, she would remember poor Neopolitan and begin to weep again. Emerald and Mercury had been conversing about potentially going to get her body and burying her. Roman, after hearing the news, went away to be by himself. No one had heard from him or seen him since then except for a single bang on the chamber wall coming from his room. No one had told Salem yet; she was fast asleep on her cot and no one wanted to wake her. She was not going to take it well, that everyone knew.

Despite the fact that she never spoke, Neo had been a good friend and a faithful ally. She defended the group and was easily their go-to for combat purposes, but outside of that, she was so sweet and innocent. She seemed to be the one who loved Salem the most; sharing the same room, helping her with her medicine, and calming her down when she got disturbed. Neo was the kind of person you could always count on to put others before herself. Cinder even suspected that she and Roman may have been romantically interested in each other, but this was never confirmed.

And now she was gone.

If it was the Lord who had taken her freedom, it was Ruby Rose, the Reaper, who had taken her soul. She had taken her eye. Then her safety. Then Neo. She had taken what remained of her hope and crushed it like brittle stone. Ruby was truly a monster.

Cinder slowly removed her hands from her face. Her vision was blurry, and her hands were soaking wet. She slowly rose to her feet, then sluggishly wandered out of the room and down the chamber towards her room. She did not even try to avoid the dripping water; she walked right underneath it, soaking her ashen hair and letting it run down her face, merging with her salty tears.

On her way to her room, she passed Salem and Neo’s room and paused to look inside. Salem was curled up under a blanket on her cot, her eyes shut tight in a deep sleep. Across the way lay Neo’s empty cot, with the blanket folded nicely on top. A small purse, full of Neo’s private belongings, sat hauntingly next to the cot. Cinder knew that most of the items within would never be used again.

As she turned to leave, Cinder heard Salem stir. “Neo?” her voice asked hoarsely.

Cinder choked up again, hearing Salem’s silent, unknowing call to her friend that would not be answered. The chamber and room was deathly quiet until Salem sighed and settled back down.

Cinder walked slowly to her room. She took her time across the cold stone floor and sat disheartened on her cot. Emerald was not in yet, but Cinder did not feel like waiting up. She did not even bother to remove her clothes or dry her wet hair and face. She just kicked off her boots, rolled over onto the cot, pulled the blanket up, and stared at the wall before her.

She had already fallen asleep when Emerald came in.

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