A/N: Edited on 4/19/16 for minor continuity fixes

The rain was coming down hard now. Lightning lit up the sky every so often, spreading light through the inky black ally. The back door to a warehouse was swung open slowly as two White Fang guards came out into the rain for a smoke.

"Hey, Mickey you got a light?" One of the Guards directed to the other as he pulled out two cigarettes and handed one to his partner.

"Yeah Frank, one second." Mickey answered as he pulled a lighter out of his coat. Water was dripping off of his hood and onto the lighter. The water made it just that much harder to light the cigarette.

"Damn lighter!" Mickey cursed as he continued striking the wheel on the lighter. Trying in vain to ignite the soaked dust wick.

"Yeah, I mean where did this storm come from? Not two hours ago it was clear as can be, but now there's an actual thunderstorm above us." Frank stated as Mickey looked up into the swirling pitch blackness.

"Yeah, freaky, right?" Mickey sad as the door swung open again and another White Fang guard wandered over to them.

"Hey Jessup." Both Mickey and Frank said as Jessup took a position leaning on the wall next to them.

"Hey guys, Frank you got anymore smokes." Frank nodded before he slid a cigarette out of his jacket.

"Thanks, Mickey, light?" Mickey nodded as Jessup took the lighter and struggled as well to light the cigarette. But he got the cigarette lit and started down the alley.

"See ya in a few minutes' guys, I got to go check the Alley." Jessup leaves with a small tip of his hood and unslung his SDCR-44, throwing it around into a ready position.

"Ok, just holler if you see anything strange out there." Fred asks as he leans back against the wall. As Jessup disappears from sight, into the inky blackness of the alley

Several minutes pass with no word from Jessup. Mickey is slightly unsettled at this point by the lack of Jessup returning or yelling back.

"We should go and check on him." Fred says but jumps a little when thunder claps above them at the same time as the lighting flashes.

"Man the storm is right above us, the rain is almost sideways now. We should head in." Mickey suggests,

"No we need to go find Jess… Oh there he is. Wait why's he running?" Fred says as he unslings his rifle along with Mickey. Jessup try's to yell something to them but it is carried off by the wind. As Jessup nears them they see him looking behind himself with fear in his eyes.

"What happened Jessup?" Jessup wheels around hearing their voices.

"I saw something out there, it was tall, standing as tall as the lieutenant." Jessup stopped and his eyes went wide as he slumped against the wall.

"Oh was it a ghost, we will go check it out. Come on Frank." Mickey mocks, only to mask the fact that he himself was scared out of his wits by now.

Frank and Mickey had gone down the alley and were engulfed in the inky black cloud of shadows. They spent several minutes searching fruitlessly.

"Oh what a waste of time, there no such thing as ghosts." Fred said but was surprised to hear another set of boots in the ally with them but couldn't spot their owner.

"Fred, you hear that?" Fred nodded in acknowledgement as they both readied their weapons. Then the footfalls stopped, and Fred and Mickey both looked down the alley only to see a tall figure standing only 30 feet away from them as the lightning flashed. They aimed their rifles and found that the figure was gone when the next flash of lightning happened only 1 second later.

"Impossible, im-freaking-possible. How did it do that?" Mickey was staring at the last place the figure had been and slowly started moving towards it when the figure dropped down behind Fred. Fred gulped and slowly turned his head and was met with a black visor.

POV SWITCH

He knew that the two men he had been following were White Fang, he also knew they were around 20 years old. Such a shame, the wasted potential. He knew that their names were Fred and Mickey while the one who saw him was named Jessup.

From his perch on the ledge he saw that the Kid named Mickey was now moving towards the spot he had been but seconds ago.

The rain splashed against his thick armor, its many pats and plates were not scratched or dented. The deep black that his armor was absorbed all light that hit it, almost like a black hole.

The one piece of his armor that was not all black was his insignia, a shield with a Red Skull and crossbones with his name "Ghost" Written under it. His armor was a mix of ceramics and plate carrying equipment. His thighs, shins and arms were covered by solid titanium plates.

Around the backs of his legs he had a "Skirt" or a rounded skirt-like garment that attached to the bottom of his chest rig and went down to cover the sides and backs of his legs to his knees. The skirt was filled with rows of ceramic plates and was made of Kevlar to allow moderate mobility while retaining an extreme amount of protection from both Grimm and firearms.

His chest was covered with a bomb suit that he had modified to resist bullets just as well as it had IED's and rockets. He lowered the collar as to not obstruct his vision from his visor. His visor was deep black and hooked into his helmet and suit, never revealing his face and creating an airtight seal, this protected him against gas and noxious fumes.

Although under that armor was a young adult, so very young but wise in the ways of the world. His rich black short-cut hair was the opposite of his pale skin, once a light cream color. His blue eyes shone in the light when he smiled, something he stopped doing years ago as he found it to be a waste of time. His body was lean and tall, his muscles were toned and well defined from years of wearing the suit. He had never socialized with normal people and never taken off his suit in public unless he was severely injured, but even then he kept everything but the necessary pieces on never revealing more than a sliver of himself to the world at once.

He was well knowledgeable. He had seen death, birth, destruction, and construction. He had seen almost all of what the awful game of life had in store for him. Although he had not experienced love, his parents were killed by the white Fang when he was 8.

He was taken in by a nice elderly Faunas man in the woods who he helped, he was cared for but not loved, something only parents could do. The man was killed by the Grimm when he was 12. He left for Vale where he then engaged in a life of crime.

Starting as a petty thief he worked his way into bigger jobs. Eventually he made it into the PMC area of business, he wowed gang leaders and company officials with his vicious efficiency. Yet only the rich and powerful could afford his price. His main employer, a mister Schnee, had contacted him dozens of times and lined his pockets well. However, he was never happy, or anything for that matter.

His emotions had been blocked out completely, no remorse meant no mercy against a target despite its age or family status. No happiness meant no clouded vision on a mission. No sadness meant no tears and not feelings for humans or faunas.

He was a machine, a Ghost, because feelings passed right through him.

He looked at people not based on their looks or their feelings for one another. He never looked at girls as attractive as this would distract him, ever so slightly, from completing his goals. All he felt was anger and calm emotionless states, these two he could allow as they pushed him on in his missions.

He was soft in the beginning and this meant he left multiple survivors in the beginning, but as he lost his emotions and feeling for living things he started leaving only single survivors. That single survivor would spread his name and his legend to all those in the criminal world, kind of like a disgusting and insidious business card that had two purposes. The first being a show of his ability to those who wanted his services and a warning to those thinking about taking him on.

He eventually grew tired of the whole PMC thing and decided to put his skills to good use, taking out White Fang around Vale. He also started this as a personal vendetta against the White Fang for the death of his parents.

He had also taken a liking into the whole hunter thing, with the saving the world and killing Grimm. He sent in some legitimate Documents (Totally Forged) to the combat school by the name of Beacon. He hopped this would allow him to set his life straight and a chance at a life anew. He had been accepted, much to his surprise, which meant that the documents worked. Although he still had this mission to do and the school started the next day just to complicate things.

On ledge he could see the two men were very far apart from each other, he took the opening. He jumped down from the ledge and landed behind the man named Fred. The man turned around and looked right into his visor. He smirked knowing that this man had never heard of him before but several White Fang on the inside of the warehouse should know who he is.

The man opened his mouth to scream but was stopped as a large gauntlet grabbed his jaw and another grabbed the back of his neck.

'Such a shame, wasted potential.' Ghost mused in his head as he pulled to opposite sides with his hands. A loud snapping sound echoed through the alley as the man's vertebra was severed, killing him instantly.

Ghost quickly rushed behind the wall as the sound reached the other guard. The other White Fang upon hearing this turned around to see his friend collapse to the ground, dead.

"Show yourself!" He yelled at the top of his lungs and Ghost obliged, coming out of his hiding spot but with his weapon drawn.

Ghost came out but unhooked his first weapon from his belt and activated it. A large riot-shield unfolded covering his entire body from the front. His second weapon was a split off of his shield and was a 3-foot-long modernized Warhammer.

Ghost had tested the dust infused hammer on concrete and only delivered 1400 pounds per square inch. He was not satisfied with the results so he made a modification. The hammer now had an impact activated pneumatic piston which delivered 3500 pounds of force per square inch. He was satisfied with the results to say the least.

"What are you!?" The man yelled at him frantically while fumbling with his rifles safety.

"A ghost. You will not have to remember, for I am the last person you will ever see." And with that Ghost sprinted at the man. He had to give the guy credit, he actually shot at him. However, the rounds just bounced off his shield harmlessly.

Ghost gave a low yell as he closed the distance and smashed his shield into the man's chest. Even through his helmet he could hear the man's lungs collapsing inwards as his shield shattered his ribs and shoved the broken bits further into his lungs and heart.

The man was on his knees gasping his final breaths of air, his head was tilted down. Blood ran freely from his nose and mouth. Ghost raised his shield and brought the man's chin up letting him look his killer in the eyes one final time before he died.

As he was about to let his head drop Ghost swung his hammer around and shattered the man's skull. A sickening crunch echoed through the alley and onto the street as the man's body slumped over with his head in a mangled, undistinguishable heap on his shoulders.

"Well, now I'm going to have to clean my shield." Ghost mumbled to himself as he headed around the corner to the door where that one man, what was his name, Jessup still sat. He looked over and shot up banging on the door in desperation, the man was upon him in a second but didn't kill him.

"Jessup, you will live. I know you don't realize it, but I only let one person live from my missions. That one man is you. Now run, and leave the criminal stuff behind." Jessup just stared at him for a second before Ghost motioned for him to go and the man ran as fast as he could. Ghost just chuckled as he cracked his neck and kicked in the door to the warehouse.

"Guess who's here?!" Ghost yelled as he entered and pulled out his second weapon. A DAW (Dust Automatic Weapon) The first White Fang entered his sights and he depressed the trigger. A ping from the shell hitting the wall and then the ground, followed by a bloody flop as the man's body hit the ground. A hole right through his skull, bits of skull, brain and mask were littered around the floor. 'This is going to be messy one again' Ghost thought as three more soldiers rushed around the corner.

Ghost quickly flicked his shield into his hand as he stuck his gun through the port made for it on the shield. The soldiers ran at him. Ghost fired three bursts and 2 of them fell immediately, the last one stumbled and fell to the ground injured. 'Great, a close kill' ghost sighed as he pulled out his pistol and put it up to the man's head. He pulled the trigger and a bullet sped through the inch of air between the muzzle and the man's skull.

Ghost went through the doorway into the massive warehouse and saw a dozen White Fang troops all receiving a briefing. 'How deaf are they! There is now way they didn't hear me execute that guy and kill three others behind that wall.' Ghost looked up and made eye contact with the soldier on stage who stopped talking and looked at him with fear seeping through his mask. He was one of the people he had let go on another mission. He could tell because there was a scar on the man's arm where Ghost had plunged his knife weeks earlier.

"Well, well, well, I thought I told you to quit Rory. But it seems as though I've already let my only survivor go. So you all are out of luck." Ghost finished by bringing out his Warhammer and shield with his pistol attached to his shield so he could fire out in the direction the shield is facing.

"Who's first?" Ghost yelled as a large man with a chain sword walked towards him.

"I am." The man who owned the gruff tone was almost six and a half feet tall.

"Well look at the time, it looks like the grim reapers a little late so he told me to give you an express ticket." Ghost said as he raised his shield to block an incoming swing from the sword. The sword glanced off. They both went on parrying attacks until ghost had enough and fired his pistol, hitting the guy in his leg.

"Gahhhhhh" The White Fang soldier yelled as he fell to one knee.

"Yes, the old .50 caliber pistol with hollow point rounds, nothing like it." Ghost said as he brought his hammer around and smashed the guys should into his chest from above. He wailed in pain as the hammer shattered his collar bone and possible ruptured his lung. Ghost then brought his shield around and smashed his face in while he used his momentum to swing the hammer back around and onto the back of his head.

Ghost said nothing as he turned around and pulled out his DAW, fully depressing the trigger, 1000 rounds per minute with a 100 round magazine. No sweat, he didn't need to aim that much. After the clicking, he swung the gun back into its resting place and pulled out his pistol and went around dispatching the stray soldier that had survived.

"Time to leave and rest before the trip to Beacon." Ghost said as he walked out the front door into the street where the sun was just now coming up, albeit behind those damned storm clouds. He trudged off towards his apartment leaving the mess of bodies and gore behind for the VPD to pick up. He called 411 on one of the White Fang member's phones to alert the police to a "Disturbance" in the district at the warehouse and then departed.

It was an hour later when Ghost returned to his apartment, he stepped in and was met with the rich mahogany floors and chrome fridge. The fridge was next to the white marble counter. It was placed next to a window that overlooked the Vale central park.

He stripped his armor off and slipped it onto the mannequin which stood watch from the closet. He then proceeded to stumble into the shower and wash up before stepping out to check the time.

Ghost flipped on the clock and saw that it was…. 2AM.

"Well shit" he said flopping onto the bed after stepping out of the shower.

"That gives me 1, 2,3,4,5,6,7,8, 12 hours before the Airship leaves for Beacon." Ghost grumbled as he fell asleep from exhaustion.

He awoke to his alarm blaring at 7Am, he threw the covers off and took off out the door after putting his clothes on. He always wore a balaclava, yes it made him look like a criminal, but the guy who owned the coffee shop across the way "Knew" him and what he "Did" for a living.

Ghost entered the shop and received no looks from people who were there because they were so used to it by now. The shop owner looked up and wave to him.

"He Johnny, you want your usual today right?" The shopkeeper had no idea that that was his fake name, he was not Johnny, and he was a Ghost with no name. He had not learned his name and was never given one. Neither did he own a small dust shop in Vacuo, nor was he married with two kids. As he finished his thoughts he was handed a cup of coffee and brought out his wallet to pay but was stopped by the man.

"Hey it's alright, you've been a customer here for so long have this one on the house." Ghost was taken aback by the man's offer and tipped him instead.

"Thanks, Im headed out for four years though, so I'll be like a ghost you could say, here one moment, gone the next." The bartender gave his few words he had and waved to Ghost as he left.

"Beacon…. Here I come." Ghost said as he opened the door to his apartment and gathered up his belongings. He looked back in the apartment and all that was left of his was the Mannequin which would be no use for now.

"Goodbye." He said as he left the apartment and closed the door. He started down the stairs and exited onto the streets no longer a criminal, but a huntsman in training.

He realized something as he approached the airship docks. He would become a Hunter. From this day forwards he would start a new life, one free from senseless murder and crime.

Or so he thought.