a/n: Posted it in the wrong format the first time, decided to reupload it. This story focuses on my RWBY oc known as Hel and corresponds to the show storyline. Please enjoy!
The slight tinge of pain from the cold wasn't al to new, she had felt it before when casted away from all she knew. She'd prefer to be warm but there's only so much you can do to counteract that, especially considering the weather of Atlas.
"Miss Hel, we've arrived."
Hel opened her eye and looked around. From what was told to her she was at the right spot, the hordes of Grimm should be near. She stood up, brushing a strand of hair in front of her visible eye and gazed at the view below her. Taking a deep breath she jumped off the ship, beginning to exhale as she fell.
Cold winds rushed past her as she fell. Most people would be terrified or have a plan of getting down, not her. If anything the threat of death would only make this assignment easier. Hel fired carefully and calculative to ensure a safe landing among the snowy fields. These places always seemed so lonely.
She walked through the abandoned ruins of what was once a village, walking ever forward. Part of her wanted to see the place, to find out why the place became the way it was now but she didn't want to deal with what would happen if she did. Whispers, screams, cries, words of the people who didn't get a tomorrow. She heard them all, but she kept walking.
Howls of Beowulf echoed through the place. They were close it would seem. With a quick motion she made quick work of a device on her neck using her blade. The voices got louder but she had heard them many times before.
Her focus was on the black and white hues rush toward her with great speed. Hel frowned, she knew she had to use her semblance. She didn't want to, no not at all. They pounced, she striked abet purposely to avoid slaying the Grimm in a single blow. Bringing someone or something to death's door was needed to activate her semblance's full potential after all.
Hel fought back the other members of the pack but things were changing about her. Crimson hair slowly morphed into the color of black and blades transformed into a scythe. Neither of her eyes could be seen with the mask that materialized upon her face but her expression was colder than the place she fought. In the moments she was still for a second, it seemed as though flower petals emitted off of her but withered away in a flash. Yes in this form death was all there was to expect. In this form death was always guaranteed. Friend or foe.
After the transformation was complete the hordes of Grimm became nothing more than a nuisance. It was as if something else occupied her, as if something moved her hand even if she refused. The numbers of Grimm dwindled rapidly how wonderful yes?
That form remained even after the job was done, lingering for even a chance for more ends to be brought upon. Soon enough however it left and Hel returned to her original self. She fell to her knees and cried.
