The Stained Festival

A Choice. A Decision

Jaune opened his eyes, suddenly awake. He thought he had heard someone, someone whispering in his ear. Looking to his side he found no one. One was beside his bed, both Ren and Nora's were empty. He was alone in the room.

Sitting up slowly the young blonde knight let out a tired sigh and rubbed his eyes. Ever since, then, he'd become a light sleeper, often waking up at the slightest noise. In the first month he woke thinking someone was in JNPR's room, coming to kill them, so had taken to sleeping with Corcea Mors.

That ended soon afterward; Jaune dropped his gaze guiltily. Throwing off his blanket he swung his feet over the side of the bed. And with another tired sigh lifted his eyes to the wall right of the door.

"It's not the same wall," he told himself, his voice hard and cold as iron. "It's not the same wall."

Jaune blinked, opened his eyes, and the room had changed. Instead of three beds there were four. The morning light was dimmed, more like the last rays of twilight. Floating in the air between him and the wall rose petals floated and danced, falling and rising on a current but never touching the floor. Scrawled across the wall, the words written in fresh blood, was a poem, her death poem.

Two flowers plucked. Their petals scattered.

Their graves with rose red I justly leave splattered.

Four more yet to go, the birds sacred dammed in their sin.

Repentance has but yet just begin.

Jaune stared at the poem, breathing heavily through his nose. Closing his eyes he counted to 10, and letting out his breath opened his eyes.

Ruby, scythe in hand was charging across the room at him, her face hidden behind the inverted Grimm mask save her murderous eyes. Jaune swore and leaped for his pillow. Pulling out the hidden weapon he turned to attack the murderous scythe-wielder. But the room was empty and silent save his laboured breathing and beating heart.

"Fuck," he muttered dropping the butter knife and falling back on his bed, covering his eyes with his hands. He thought it was her, though she was here. But she wasn't.

'Fuck!" he growled, his fingers tightening against his skin still it started to hurt. His lips curled into a snarl, and he began to beat his other hand against the mattress, putting in more strength with each hit. He didn't understand. Why was he seeing her, the poem, the petals. Why was he seeing things or hearing someone when no one was around. Was this something Ozpin was doing? Or, was it Ruby torturing him for getting in her way? Why? Why was he being tortured? Why was he suffering? Hadn't they done enough to him?

A hand gripped his shoulder, it's touch soft, caring. Like someone was trying to console him, to tell him it was okay.

Jaune bolted upright screaming and throwing out his arms hoping to hit whoever it was in the room with him.

Again, he was alone in the room, silent save his breathing and heartbeat.

"Whoever you are!" Jaune screamed rising to his feet. "Just leave me alone!"

No one answered nothing in the room changed. Jaune swore loudly and stormed out of the room slamming the door behind him.

The room fell silent, now empty. With a sigh, a woman stepped from the corner of the room to stand by Jaune's bed. With an unreadable expression, the woman stared at the bed, her green eyes cold.

"I can't do that Jaune. Not yet."

Students of the four schools congested the halls, filling them with noise that hurt his ears as he wove his way through the crowds. Some of the other Beacon students recognized him and greeted him, or praised him for stopping the Beacon Student Killer. Others gave him sympathetic looks and glances. The few students of Atlas Haven and Shade that recognized him shared the expressions of the Beacon students or gasped and tittered in shock excitement of sadness.