#kemonomimi bear hybrid snow and rose

[cinderswife]

Fangs

General White survives her first up-close encounter with a Rose Red.

(Crossposted to ao3)

There was a gun pointed at General White’s head.

Her breath came in short gasps. She lay flat on her back on the pavement, unable to reach her gun. Dimly, she was aware that she was bleeding. Pain laced up her torso.

She was going to die here.

The face of the monster behind the gun was blurry in her vision. Short scarlet hair, almost buzzed, darker red bear ears, and a long, strong jaw marked this as her sister. Her sister wasn’t this tall though, wasn’t this unblemished and hollow eyed.

A Rose Red, then. General White had seen them from a distance as she’d blown their bases to kingdom come, but this was the first time she’d had to look one in the eyes. It wasn’t a threat, couldn’t be; when she and Rose had tussled this was always the point where Rose had held up a hand and lifted her to her feet.

But no, Rose (not-Rose) had a rifle to her head and if the clicking was any indication was about to shoot.

“Get up.”

Rose’s voice, but the monster’s mouth hadn’t moved.

“I said, get up!”

How? She would be dead in a second. No weapons, just bleeding out on the ground.

“You’re not weaponless, Snow. You have fangs.”

Out of the corner of her eye, a translucent figure moved. The same scarlet hair, the same red ears, the same jaw, but this one was battered and in her wedding dress. A ghost then. Also, what good would metaphor do now?

“Snow. We’re bear folk. You have a mouth full of fucking two inch knives.” The ghost pulled back a lip to reveal a knife-like fang. “The Red’s about to shoot. Do something about it.”

Something, something, what something could she do? Wait. General White raised an arm and knocked the giant’s aim off just enough that the shot fired harmlessly behind her.

“Good. Keep going.”

The Rose Red moved to aim again. General White grabbed the gun and despite the pain tearing at her side twisted it out of the Red’s hands. It stumbled. She grabbed its wrist and pulled it to the ground.

Now the Rose Red was the one flat on its back. She straddled it, pinning its arms to its sides. It struggled, but there was terror in its scarlet eyes. It was Rose’s face staring up at her, afraid of the hollow socket in her face and the hatred in her remaining blue eye.

General White bared her fangs, but how could she? How could she rip Rose’s throat out with her teeth? It would be Rose’s blood in her mouth.

“DO IT.”

Fine. With animal ferocity, she plunged her fangs into the Rose Red’s throat and tore. It screamed in Rose’s voice, the kind of scream Rose had made when waking from nightmares. General White shook but tore again and again. Blood sprayed onto her face and dripped down her chin, coppery on her tongue.

The Rose Red stopped screaming only when its lungs finally gave out. The life had drained from its eyes, but the terror it had felt in its final moments still lingered. General White stared down at it, frozen and unmoving.

Rose was dead. Rose was dead and she had killed her. She had been the one to make Rose scream, to make Rose fear, to make Rose die. How could she ever forgive herself?

“Snap out of it.”

But there was Rose’s voice. General White raised her head slowly to see the ghost in her wedding dress pull a cigarette out of nowhere and light it. Acrid smoke curled through the air, covering up the scent of blood and death.

“I just killed you,” General White said through a mouthful of regret.

The ghost sighed, exhaling a puff of smoke. “I’m not dead, Snow. Taking a vacation from my body, sure. I’d rather not think about what they’re doing to it right now. Anyways, it was you or her and I’m glad it was you.”

General White looked between the dead Rose on the ground and the ghostly Rose standing over her with a cigarette in hand. One of them was large with an unblemished face – no scars or freckles – and the other was short but dense with every scar General White remembered her having and freckles like a starscape.

“You need to get up now.” Ghost Rose stared at her with tired but firm scarlet eyes. “There are more coming and you’re dead meat just sitting here.”

She tried to move, but her body didn’t respond. Adrenaline bled out from the gash in her side and it was all she could do to avoid collapsing atop the corpse that wasn’t her sister’s below her. Something churned in her gut.

“I’m going to vomit.” This was a statement of fact; she could taste the acid on the back of her throat.

“You’re not puking right now, so I need you to get up. What kind of a revolutionary leader are you if you sit and wait for death to come?”

She growled low in her throat and slowly willed herself to her feet. Her left leg, then her right, then she was on her hands and knees clutching her side. Rose just watched, unwilling or unable to help. She almost made it up before the threatened vomit spilled out her mouth and down her front.

Still, she kept going until she was on her feet. Every muscle in her body ached and all she wanted to do was lie down forever, but General White stood unsteady in her boots and took a slow, shaky step forwards.

“Good. Can you remember where the rendezvous is? You just need to get there, and then Doc Lorenzo can patch you up.”

She shook her head. Red fog filled her mind and weighed down her bones.

“That’s fine, just follow me.”

The ghost of her sister turned and walked away, the train of her wedding dress leaving rose petals in its wake. Smoke still curled in the air. Could anyone else smell it? Still, General White knew she had to follow her. What kind of a leader was she if she just lay down and died? No, she was going to live and she was going to lead her tiny army to victory over the king.

Taking a step was agony, but she would have to endure. It was, at least, marginally better than standing. Rose wouldn’t let her stop moving, not even to spill her guts again, so she forced herself to keep going.

They walked in silence, stopping only to hide behind a barely standing wall as another squadron of Rose Reds passed by them into ruins they were leaving. She looked at the ghost of Rose, whose face was scrunched into an expression of annoyance and disgust.

“Really?” Rose said, throwing the cigarette on the ground where it faded into nothingness. “Rifles? They should’ve used rail guns, I never miss with those.”

General White raised an eyebrow but said nothing. They hadn’t really ever talked about what weapons Rose had liked. Snow had abhorred the subject, an opinion General White no longer held. It would’ve been nice to have more of Rose’s expertise by her side, but other than whatever this was she had nothing but what her advisors could give her and the pieces she’d fumbled out for herself.

When the squadron had passed, Rose started them up again. Her pace was steady, but slow enough for General White to stumble and curse her way to keeping up with. At some point, the ghost had produced another cigarette and the foul stench not unlike the cigars she herself had made into a habit managed to keep her going.

One foot in front of the other. Clutch her side, pray she wasn’t going to bleed out before she made it through the woods and to the rendezvous where medical attention and a vehicle out of here were. Try not to think about the blood and the vomit and the other fluids she didn’t care to acknowledge she was covered in. Cling to the scent of roses and smoke and death.

Rose didn’t talk. Her face was hard and angry and tired and General White found that she didn’t have the energy to say anything either. What could she say to a ghost? Still, Rose expertly navigated them through unmarked trees and half remembered stones so General White could focus on staying upright and moving forwards.

And there it was: a clearing with a getaway vehicle and the half dozen of her troops whom she’d taken with her on this ill-fated excursion. No one had died thankfully, though she could see Doctor Lorenzo scurrying as he patched up bloody wounds.

“This is where I leave you.” Rose extinguished her cigarette and saluted. “Take care, Snow. I’ll try to hold on long enough for you to rescue me. I love you.”

“I love you too. Cinders and I will find you, I promise.”

With that, the ghost and her rose petals and her cigarette smoke faded into the dim afternoon light. General White stood, watching the nothingness where her sister had been just moments earlier for a good long moment.

Then someone shouted. Her brain started back into gear and she stumbled towards her men. One of the least wounded of her soldiers raced towards her, catching her as she fell. The last thing she saw before she faded into the dark herself was Doctor Lorenzo’s worried gaze and she couldn’t help but smile.