Edit: Added the line thingies.

The Night Unfurls

Prologue

The visual nature of dreams is generally highly phantasmagoric; that is, different locations and objects continuously blend into each other. The visuals (including locations, characters/people, objects/artifacts) are generally reflective of a person's memories and experiences, but banter can take on highly exaggerated and bizarre forms.

Confusion and a splitting headache were the only things that enveloped Blake Belladonna's mind as she tried to force herself to wake up. Why was she recalling trivialities such as excerpts from a failed attempt at an essay in one of Doctor Oobleck's classes?

Rubbing the sleep out if her eyes, she rolled herself off the bed-only to fall off of it-slamming face first on the hardwood floor. This promptly forces her to wake up. Cursing her rude awakening, she groggily rolls herself to face upward. What she saw didn't make her day any better.

It was an unfamiliar ceiling. Yellow eyes widening in shock, and finally gaining full consciousness, the smells and aroma of blood and medical elixirs finally crept up into her nose. Her cat ears twitching underneath her black bow as she heard flesh and bone being torn up somewhere close by.

Panic begins to overcome her as she silently stood up and take in the fine details of the room she was in. Archaic would have been too nice a word to describe where she was at. Old medical cabinets surrounded the walls around her. Her would be bed was nothing more than a hospital bed, but it was more akin to gurney more than anything else. Two doors were the portal to the outside of, what she assumed of this room, a makeshift sickroom. Mold covering the wooden surfaces of the furniture and the wooden floor beneath her feet. Definitely not team RWBY's dorm room.

Glancing to her side, she saw a full-length mirror showing her reflection; she didn't like what she saw. She was in her Beacon uniform, which did nothing to calm her down. She wasn't in her usual Huntress outfit, which would usually be paired up with Gambol Shroud… Gambol Shroud!?

She was unarmed. She was unarmed in an unknown location. She was unarmed in an unknown location with danger literally right next door.

The howls of beasts and sound of bones breaking returning did nothing to calm her down. It made her feel worse.

"I-I need to get out of here," she muttered. Slowly creeping towards the closed door, she grasped the handle-only to find out that it was locked. A brief thought about breaking the door crossed her mind, but that thought was squashed as the prospect of breaking it would attract too much attention.

Moving towards the other door, her hand brushed a piece of paper that was on top of a desk. Picking it up, she noticed that it was a hastily written note. What shocked her the most was that it was written by her, if the handwriting was anything to go by.

Seek Paleblood to transcend the hunt.

Slumber brings one to the Dream.

Seek Workshop to end the nightmare.

Paleblood? Workshop? Dream? None of these words seem to click with her. This was frustrating! She couldn't remember what had transpired to bring her here. The more she tried to remember, the more her head hurt.

Pocketing the note and forcing her musings at the back of her mind, she decided it would be better to get out of the sickroom.

Clasping her hand onto the door's handle, she swung it open as silently as possible. There was a staircase leading down towards a hallway. There was a sign that says "Iosefka's Clinic" bolted on to the door.

As she slowly and stealthily made her way towards it, the sound of meat being rend from bone grew louder and louder until she saw what was making that noise.

A Beowolf. A lone Beowolf feasting on what she assumed was a pile of broken corpses, if the number of limbs were anything to go 's Grimm mask only formed halfway indicating that it was a juvenile and hasn't matured fully yet. It's dark fur mottled and caked with blood, gangly limbs tearing the flesh out of the bone. 'Guess it hasn't it noticed me yet.'

It was situated in the middle of a much larger sickroom, with gurneys and various medical supplies strewn all over the large room. Curtains acting as barriers, a chandelier directly on top of the Beowolf, a door right across the room, upper platforms connecting to a balcony, and intricate carvings all over the wooden surfaces finishes the gothic ensemble of the makeshift clinic.

'There's only one way to go about this.' Blake thought to herself as she prepared to jump on to the platform above her.

Aura enhanced feet lifted off the ground and propelled her towards her destination. Landing with as little noise possible, she quickly made her way towards the balcony. Escaping was her only option at the moment.

Seeing a door that led outside made her feel slightly elated. Practically jogging towards the door, she forcefully opened it, strong winds buffeting her as she took in the scenery.

It was a city. She was in a city of some kind. A city that seemed to have come out of an old horror novel. Gothic spires and arches spread throughout the background, The afternoon sun casting its light throughout the drab brown of the sprawling city. The buildings looked strange to her, but seemed to to trigger some familiarity with her. Why couldn't she remember? Surely there would be something that would jog her memory, right?

Blake's thoughts were interrupted as she tripped on some rubble. Cursing herself for her carelessness, she finally drank in the area around her. The sight of the courtyard did not please her at all.

The courtyard was infested with gravestones. It was littered with them in different shapes and sizes; only ending on the large stone walls that encompassed the building. She was on top of a stone path that led toward a large metal gate, effectively corralling her inside and whatever was outside -well- outside. It occurred to her that the courtyard also doubled as a grave. This realization greatly disturbed her. 'Just how many people were killed here? Why would there be a grave right in front of a clinic?'

Her body was frozen as her bow twitched in irritation as she heard snarls close by. Glancing behind her she saw that the Beowolf now has its full attention towards her.

Cursing her carelessness with the door and her footsteps, she quickly sprinted towards the stone wall skipping off over large gravestones and vaulted over the large metal gate. effectively sealing the Beowolf inside the forsaken clinic.

Dusting herself off, she started walking the dilapidated streets of the broken down city. Numerous caskets. standing upright or otherwise, littered the streets and alleyways in every corner she could see. Her nose scrunched up in disgust as the smell of blood grew stronger as she continued to walk. the more she went deeper into the city, the more the smell grew stronger. It was unbearably intoxicating... Intoxicating!? Why would she think blood would be Intoxicating!?

Shaking her head, she tried to put all her concentration into just moving and finding someone- anyone that would be able to help her.

The winding streets were confusing to her. The design and layout seem to evoke a maze. Broken down buildings and the occasional crucifix were her only landmarks to be used for navigation.

Vaulting over another gate that blocked her path, she finally saw what she was looking for. People! They were patrolling the streets in squads. Pitchforks, torches, crude swords, and crude firearms were their armaments. Their features were what surprised her. They were tall and lanky. Their limbs seem to have been stretched far beyond what was natural. But what surprised her the most was that they looked like they had animal features. Fur jutting out of their clawed hands and seem to have canine like facial features.

Were they Faunus just like her? Surely they had to be. Their features says it all! Perhaps she was at Menagerie after all? If this was the Faunus city then the living conditions were way worse than what she originally thought. There was even a Grimm in the clinic she was in!

There was only one way to get the patrol's attention. Mustering up her voice and letting in a deep breath, she slowly removed her bow revealing her cat ears. The appendages twitching as if to relax without the restrictive bow. The bow now tied on to her right hand, idly fiddling it as some form of comfort.

"Hey! E-excuse me! I think I'm lost. I'm a student at Beacon Academy and-and I don't know how I got here." She shouted at the top of her lungs but her voice slowly receding into a low volume. But it seemed to have caught the patrol's attention.

A few moments passed as both parties stared at each other. Panic began to bubble inside Blake's stomach as she continued to stare at the patrol, waiting eagerly for a response.

What happened next was the last thing she ever wanted.

"Cursed beast!"

"Away! Away!"

"You plague ridden rat!"

"It's all your fault!"

The mob started attacking Blake, this caught her off guard. Some even ringing bells to signal others around the area. Pitchforks, sickles, and cutlasses striking her. The crackling of muskets audible throughout the streets. This whittled away at the protective barrier of her Aura.

Letting her Aura take the damage, even only for a few seconds, was a bad idea. That was unusual. Her Aura wasn't the strongest but it could still take quite the beating. So why each successive hit took chunks of her Aura away like she was fighting someone as heavy hitting like Ruby? Her only option now was to use her Semblance and flee.

Leaving behind a shadow clone to take the fall for her, she quickly slipped passed them and ran as fast as she could. Scaling walls and jumping off rooftops to escape the growing mob. A mob that was now shooting at her general direction and throwing molotov cocktails towards her as well.

Why would they attack her? She was unarmed and she did try to appear as non-threatening as possible. Then why would they attack her? Was it a misunderstanding on her part? Surely it wasn't that.

She squashed her thoughts as self preservation took precedence. She needed a good vantage point. Maybe the slums were the only place that was hostile to non-locals? Yes, perhaps it was just that.

Climbing up towards the highest spire in the district, she propped herself up to get a better view. She could see other districts in the area-

As a large, ebony, eldritch hand swatted her away of the spire, sending her spiraling towards the ground. Just looking at the being sent throbbing pain throughout her head, momentarily forgetting what situation she was in. This thing wasn't something anyone should ever want to look at. This thing wasn't something anyone-anyone should ever look at. Just glancing at it defiled her very being. Just this thing in her memories tainted her soul.

This creature was vile.

This creature was malicious.

This creature only saw other beings as insects to be swatted away.

This thing was evil.

Her last glance at the creature gave her a vision of what it is. Or what her mind could comprehend. A large monstrous entity with a spider-like body with numerous hands ending with six fingers that could easily crush anyone caught easily in its grasp. With or without Aura. Lastly, a fly-like Grimm mask with bulging, bulbous eyes balefully staring at her falling body before quickly dissipating into thin air.

Her body hit the ground with an audible crack. Pain lanced throughout her body as she tried to move. She couldn't. Not even so much as a twitch from a finger.

Gasping for air, her eyes twitched and quivered as she could only cough up blood. Her clothes sticking to her figure as blood pooled all over her.

'I-'

Darkness enveloping her vision.

'I'm dying.'

Blake couldn't find peace in herself as her life slowly ebbed. She wanted to do more. Be more. She wanted equality for both Faunus and Humans, and all she could do now is lie in her own pool of blood waiting for the inevitable to happen. She didn't want to die like this. She still had so much to do, dammit!

'I'm sorry.'

The pain stopped as a new sensation filled her.

Cold.

'Ruby, Yang…'

So cold.

'Weiss… I am so sorry...'

The vision of the sun slowly receding to the nothingness that crept onto the last fragments of her yellow orbs.

Blake Belladonna could only curse herself as the darkness engulfed her. All she could do now was to dream. Dream a better life.

"Good Hunter."

A book closed shut as blue orbs, obscured by a pair of glasses, looked directly at quicksilver ones.

"Yes?" Blonde locks fell as a tilt of a head indicated confusion. The book was gingerly put onto the nearest desk. Blue still gazing onto quicksilver. No malicious intent were sent upon both pairs of eyes but only love and admiration.

"It seems that we have a guest." A wooden hand quickly grabbed onto a dark red bonnet, as silver hair and bonnet covered the blushing face of the speaker. Breaking away from the blue orbs as she tried to conspicuously avert her gaze from the Good Hunter.

Not noticing the the fidgeting of the other person, the Good Hunter simply stood up from the wheelchair. Using a sheathed katana as a crutch, they grabbed a black coat to cover up, since having only a simple white shirt and trousers to wear to meet new people was deemed rude in these parts. At least that's what the she insisted.

"Good Hunter, Please do not try to stand. You are still injured. Please sit down and I will guide you to our new guest."

"Nonsense, Doll. It's time to meet new faces and if they're here-well I guess that makes them our-the Workshop's first student! Besides, I guess we'll have to be the welcoming party either way and I at least want to look healthy and strong." Huffing and crossing their arms as if to muster a pouting expression, the other person-the Doll could only giggle slightly at the Good Hunter's-her Good Hunter's antics.

"Very well then. As long as you don't overexert yourself." Offering her porcelain hand to the Good Hunter. They eagerly took it. The Doll's silver braid slowly shifting on their left shoulder as they both walked towards the garden. Both of them smiling at each other. Eager to meet their first student.

Walking out towards the Workshop's garden filled with white lilies, they saw the most peculiar sight.

It was an ebony haired girl lying face down onto the garden steps. Clothes caked in dried blood and cat ears occasionally twitching as if to match the rise and fall of the girl's chest.

"This is quite odd, Good Hunter."

The blonde glanced at the Doll then back to the slumbering girl. A callous hand slowly combed through the relatively short hair, as if contemplating what situation they are in. Sighing, the Good Hunter loosened their grip on the katana and slackened their posture.

"This is gonna be real weird when she wakes up."

Author Notes: So.. Uhh... This is my first ever fanfic. This story has been stewing in my mind for a while now and I wanted to put those thoughts into words. I may not be good at writing yet but I'm working on improving my writing abilities. Criticism is welcome, hell, I encourage it.

See you in chapter two.

Excerpt is from on dreams; under content and visuals.