RWBY - The Vendetta's Web

CHAPTER ONE: THE FINAL PHASE

"Get ready boys."

The city hummed softly, the skyline, The buildings, the town softly singing as nightfall fell upon the people of Vale. Large black vans made there way down the streets and into the alleyways. The screeching of the tires screamed out as they quickly stopped in plain sight, almost gaining invisibility in the darkness.

"Let's start." The van doors slammed open, men pouring out one by one; lining up shoulder by shoulder awaiting orders. Out of the dark of the vehicle a small figure stood out. The flicking of a lighter revealed a grin, the light went out and a black dress shoe tapped out.
"Cover the area and wait for my signal." The men nodded in unison, quickly dispersing and disappearing into the night. "You two. With me." The figure walked to the building and knocked on the metal door. It's blue tint old and scratched, rust covering the bottom.

"Open up."

The door creaked open, moaning loudly as an old pale face peaked through the Crack.

"I'm sorry Mr. Munzell. I didn't realize it was you."

The door closed swiftly and the sound of metal clanging tapped the door, Locks and chains being moved. A few seconds later the door opened quickly revealing a small frail old man. His hair matted up, his skin used and worn.

"I see our reputation has proceeded us."

The old man audibly gulped, sweat trickeling off the side of his bone white skin. The figure stepped into the room and his men followed, both stiff as stone and towering in size comparing to their leader.

"And if that's true. Then I'm guessing you know why I'm here?"

The old man nodded as he backed away slowly to a bookcase, pulling large books off to reveal a small chest. "Good. You learn quickly." The old man kept his eyes to the ground, nervously playing with his hands as the large men took the chest from him.

After a few short seconds the men grunted slowly closing the chest and putting it into their large coats. "So." The figure started off slowly, he led the old man to a table. "What do the others say about us?"
The old man hesitated but the two large men menacingly glared at him, forcing him to sit. "I know what they call us." He dug his hand into his jacket, pulling out a small yellow billfold. "They call us criminals. Thugs. Bullies." He laid the folder down and pushed it towards the old man. "I say we're far from that. We keep this little city of ours alive with only a snap of our fingers."

He pulled the lighter out and began to play with it. Lighting it up and snuffing the flame repeatedly. "All we ask for is cooperation, you see, over the years the town was a cesspool of crime. Shops all over town being robbed blind, families came to hard times. But that was before us." The old man reached for the billfold and opened it up, looking at its contents.
"We get dirty, so you guys stay clean. And all we ask in return is a little compensation."

The old man's eyes grew wide as he tossed the billfold to the side.
"I didn't mean to-." The figure raised his hand and flicked the lighter once more. "Do you know what we do to finks who rat my family out?" A room door burst open and a young black haired man dashed in with a shotgun.
"This!" Before the bodyguards could react he racked his shotgun and shot them both in the chest.

Pieces of flesh splattered across the room, painting the once beige colored walls to a dark red. "I'm gonna miss those two. Good men." The figure put up his hands, the lighter still aflame. "Y'know this could've gone down easy right?" He stood up, the chair screeching loudly as the gunner pointed the barrel at him. Before he could rack his gun again he let the lighter go, watching as it withered and died mid air before hitting the ground. The figure quickly moved forward grabbing the barrel and pulling it up before the gunner had the chance to pull the trigger, the barrel still piping hot as he pulled the gun from his hands and jammed the handle into his face. "All you had to do was keep hiding and everything would've been fine." The figures eyes grew wide in anger, popping the barrel down to the old man and putting his finger on the trigger.
"This is on your hands." He sighed as he moved the barrel from the old man's chest to james's foot, pulling the trigger and blowing it to minced meat.
James screamed in agonizing pain as he clawed at his leg in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "Alright. Now that all the cards are on the table." He opened the shotgun and unloaded the rest of the shells, cocking it back and leveling it to his side.
He took a swing, a few teeth and splatters of blood flying across the way as James got pushed on his back due to the force. The figure brought the gun above his head and with a few mighty swings caved James's head in, the old man silently crawling to the door as the figure wiped blood off of his face "Where you going?"
The floorboards creaked as he dropped the gun and walked slowly towards him.