The Silent Rose (abused and neglected mute reader x rwby)

Chapter Sixteen: Feral

Summer POV

Y/n was laying unconscious in the room mistress had provided for him to heal and let the transformation process complete. His breathing was slow, almost deathly, but his enhanced lungs would allow him to hold his breath for long periods of time. He still looked thin, but his strength would be more than doubled, more than enough to lift even a car.

I wished I hadn't been so abrasive to get him to this point. He probably saw me as the monster, but I only wanted to have him at my side. It might've been the Grimm side of me taking hold, or maybe I was desperate. If I couldn't turn him in time, Salem would've terminated him, and I would've lost another person I held dear.

Y/n began to move slightly, awakening for the next part of the transformation. The first was to break through his immune system and for it to pass under his aura as if it was a part of him. This next one would leave him as mindless as a Beowolf. He would be more agile and less focused on his hunger, but he would attack anything in his feral path. This part wasn't necessary, but it would happen as his mind fought for control of his body. The Grimm half would have control of his actions, as his mind did before he was completely infested with the Grimm virus.

I got out of the chair in the bedroom, leaving to find Salem. I would need to alert her to this phase, or one of her lackeys could get mauled by my son. If that did happen, I hope Tyrian would be the first to go. He had always made me uncomfortable, even with his devotion, it might've even made me more uncomfortable.

As I walked through the black, stone hallways, I began to think about my daughter. She must've been horrified when she found out about me and the virus. How she must be scared for Y/n. This led me to question my loyalties.

Siding with Ozpin wasn't an option. He was as bad, if not worse, than Salem. While he might be trying to find a way to end her reign, he was still sending children to their doom. Sacrificing young girls to become the next Maidens. If it was for such a good cause, why did he feel the need to hide it? To prevent panic? To keep control?

Salem wasn't better, nor was she worse. Yes, she wanted world domination. Yes, her plan was to destroy humanity. But she had turned from destruction, to corruption. Turning humans into Grimm, while sounds bad, just look at me! I was stronger, faster, and able to control the other beasts to a degree. I was able to sense and communicate with Y/n, the chance it was because of our relation was there, but then again, we were the only successful human-Grimm hybrids.

I was pulled from my thoughts as I went into range of Salem's chambers. My moral conviction would have to wait.

Ruby POV

The large revolver's grip sat in my hand. The dark blue colors brought out the white spade on the barrel of the gun. Y/n's fallback weapon was in almost pristine condition. Whatever he did to it before he passed out had repaired the weapon and cleaned it thoroughly. We were just about to continue our journey to Mistral when I had realized I had thrown the gun in my bag before I left. I had fired it a few times, taking out smaller Grimm and seeing how it felt to fire. The recoil was nothing to scoff at, but it tore through Grimm like it was designed to kill Grimm specifically, in the first shot.

We'd found more and more Grimm attacks as we continued on, not like before Beacon was destroyed. They seemed more efficient, or at least smart enough to use strategy in overrunning towns. Things like luring people into tight areas or a single Beowolf running to a pack that had set up an ambush. This was possibly the work of my mother, but the question of why they hadn't acted like this in the years before, still remained.

In the towns we weren't fast enough to save, we'd found signs of a more powerful type of Grimm. Witnesses said it was too fast to get a clear visual of, but it cut people in half like a scalpel through paper. Smaller, more common types of Grimm were usually left to clean and finish off any survivors of the attack, but hunted in irregular ways, picking through towns section by section, building by building, efficient but ruthless. How they were doing this could've been obvious, but we were usually too busy helping the survivors or figuring out our travel plan to figure it out, mostly being too tired to think about it. I assumed it was my mother or this "Salem" that Y/n had described.

I hope he's not behind this. I don't think I'd be able to kill him if I was confronted with it. I don't think I'd be able to even look at him, let alone fight him. Even thinking about him brings me to tears.

I wipe my eyes and holster the Ace. Grabbing Crescent Rose, I help the rest pack up what's left of the camp, so we can move on to the next town, and eventually get to Mistral.

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Pulling a JonTron here and not posting for what feels like a year. I don't have an excuse for why, but I just never completed writing this chapter.

I'm sorry for the wait, and I'm sorry for not staying on schedule (I was never good at organization), and sorry for this not being good enough. I want to set up a twist or something, but I can't seem to get it right. If you can't guess what it would've been, then clearly I've either failed and led you the wrong way or maybe I did it right. Either way, I'm sorry for being lousy at writing coherently, but I'm working on it.

Sorry for the unreasonable wait, and as always:

Goodbye/ Goodnight

~Author- regretting apologizing too much, sorry

(P.S; thanks to those that stuck around)