They Ain't Gonna Know What Hit 'Em (abused and betrayed Fem venom Oc x RWBY)

Rwby The 13th

The air grew tense as whispers of a long-forgotten curse echoed through the damp woods surrounding Camp Forest Green, the once vibrant leaves now a lifeless shade of brown. Unbeknownst to the unsuspecting campers, a fiery bolt of lightning pierced the gloomy sky, striking the murky waters of the lake with a deafening crack. The surface rippled violently, revealing the rusted chain that had remained submerged for years, bound to the heavy boulder that had been its silent sentinel. The metal links groaned and snapped one by one, releasing the imprisoned spirit of Ariel Sparda. Her eyes, once a serene blue, now burned with the rage of the damned, her flesh pale and decayed. The tattered remnants of her clothing clung to her skeletal frame, whispering of the horrors she had endured beneath the lake's unforgiving embrace. Above the water, the bullies' laughter grew louder as they approached the shoreline, blissfully unaware of the vengeful specter rising from the depths below. Velvet scarlatina, Ariel's grieving wife, felt an eerie chill dance up her spine, a premonition of the horrors about to unfold. Little did she know, her quiet existence was about to be shattered by the resurgence of a love that transcended even death itself.

Ariel's decayed hand clutched the broken chain, feeling the cold steel slip through her rotten fingers as she ascended from the watery grave that had held her captive. The boulder sank back into the abyss, leaving her to drift towards the surface. Her waterlogged boots touched the slimy lake bed, and with a silent snarl, she pushed off, propelling herself towards the unsuspecting shoreline. The bullies' shadows danced on the water's edge, their taunts echoing through the night like a morbid serenade. As she emerged from the lake, the lightning cast an eerie glow upon her, revealing the mask of rage that now consumed her features. Her gaze fell upon the discarded hockey mask and machete, remnants of a forgotten prank from a bygone era. With a grim determination, Ariel claimed these macabre artifacts as her own, the mask shielding her once beautiful face, now a twisted visage of anger, and the machete becoming an extension of her arm, ready to deliver retribution. She moved with a predatory grace, her chains rattling softly as she stalked the perimeter of Camp Forest Green, her eyes never leaving the foul creatures who had caused her such pain. The night grew colder, but the fire of vengeance burning within her could not be quenched.

Ariel's gaze narrowed in on Nora Valkyrie, the ringleader of the group that had condemned her to a watery prison. As the bullies scattered, their laughter fading into the distance, she seized the opportunity to single out her first target. She moved with a silent, predatory grace, her decayed limbs gliding through the shadows as if she were part of the very darkness itself. The chains around her neck clanked rhythmically with each step, a morbid metronome keeping time with her thirst for vengeance. Ariel knew that the time to act was now, as the campers scattered to their cabins for the night. Her one good eye focused intently on Nora, who walked away from the group, seemingly oblivious to the horror lurking just beyond the tree line. The machete felt heavy in her hand, its blade thirsting for the blood of those who had wronged her. As Nora's silhouette grew clearer against the moonlit path, Ariel's breath grew ragged and her heart, though long ceased to beat, pounded in her chest with the anticipation of the hunt. She stepped out from the shadows, the mask hiding her pain, and began to stalk her prey, her chains dragging ominously behind her.

With a newfound purpose, Ariel Sparda advanced on Nora Valkyrie, the sound of her chains following like a ghostly orchestra of vengeance. Nora's laughter abruptly ceased as she caught the scent of death and decay in the air, her heart racing with a sudden, inexplicable terror. Ariel's machete gleamed in the moonlight, a silent promise of the fate that awaited her tormentor. The cabin grew closer, a beacon of false safety, but as Nora fumbled with the door, the undead slasher was upon her. In one swift, brutal motion, Ariel's arm swung, the machete slicing through the air with a chilling hiss. Nora's eyes widened in horror as the blade met her neck, separating her head from her body in a spray of crimson. Her lifeless form crumpled to the ground, the last of her taunts silenced forever. The head rolled into the cabin, leaving a gruesome trail, as the campers inside screamed in terror. Ariel stood tall, her blind zombie eye staring lifelessly as the other burned with a cold fury. The first act of her vengeance had been carried out, but the night was still young, and there were more to pay for their sins.