A/N- I do not own any right towards the series of RWBY as they are part of a legacy tethered to the memory of its creator, Monty Omm. I am merely creating a series as a means of giving more life to the world of Remnant as a whole, mainly revolving around the past of Remnant. Meaning, no current characters will make an appearance. All characters are to be considered as OC's. However, I will resolve the relations to the past and the present of Remnant as this series progresses. Thank you for your understanding. (Also, I will likely only publish a single story as an experimental one-shot. I will take in the feedback the community gives me about the story and will take the time to make amendments to each chapter. Aka I'm lazy as hell! I'm also not the greatest writer of all time, so forgive me if my writing style isn't all that impressive). Nonetheless, enjoy!

Faye laid still on the wooden planks beneath her body. Her fading heartbeat faintly pumped blood into the seawater below the aged wood. The loud creaking of the planks and the jagged, serrated kunai that had pierced through her neck had managed to hush any cry of help she could have valued in her final moments.

Though, the expression of her aero eyes could not be read as they now appeared to be faded, cloudy. The only thing shining in them was the reflection of the moonlight. Maybe they were filled with regret or maybe they were filled with peace. Whatever expression it may have been didn't matter anymore. The dead take their secrets to the grave. However, that's just a lie that everyone wants to believe about the damned.

Cain stood over her fresh corpse. The rope attached to his kunai was full unraveled, trailing all the way to his feet, like a winding road. He didn't flinch throughout the whole ordeal. His cerulean eyes remained bloodshot and unwavering. He wanted to imagine that her death was quick to any bystander who could have witnessed what had just unfolded. Even if anyone saw, as unlikely as it seemed, none aided her to safety.

Cain looked into her eyes once more reminiscing about the ordeal all over again in his mind, like a reel on rewind. He wanted to imagine all the emotions Faye felt as she was dying. Trivial, seeing as she was already dead. But Cain sought a certain desire when he remembered lodging his blade into her throat. He didn't want her death to be quick. Cain wanted her to feel every ounce of pain and suffering he had inflicted on her. The same feeling he had endured the day she left him to fate.

His gaze focuses on his current condition, stopping himself from anchoring his thoughts to the past and into the madness that came with it. Ironic, as his current self-wasn't in the sanest of situations either.

Fresh, crimson blood stains covered some of his stomach, while most of it splattered itself onto his kama and pants. Some residue of blood even managed to splash onto the oni mechanical mask that covered his face. His gloves, which only shielded his ring and pinky finger, had shielded their respected parts. His uncovered fingers had traces of smeared blood on it as if Cain was but a mere child who was finger painting.

But as a whole summary, the entire scene was a fine, damn mess. But all the blood that soaked into his clothing and stained his mask seemed to give him a sense of pleasure. It was as if the blood was satisfying a thirst that dwelled within Cain.

Vengeance.

The cool, west wind began to howl and blow against the black silk scarf that shielded his neck. Not a single bloodstain managed to tatter it's broken beauty. Why Cain still wore the cursed memento eluded everyone, including himself.

Slowly, he closed his eyes and moved his right hand towards the scarf. Hesitantly, he grasped the silk into his hands. He immediately felt his breath slightly waiver. In the distance, he heard the sound of wind chimes creating a soothing melody with the wind. The air was much warmer and felt welcoming to those passing by. Then, without question, Cain heard the irrefutable sound of a child laughing, though, he could not see anyone. Such a strange occurrence, but pleasant nonetheless. If only they were real, and not a figment of what was.

Suddenly, Cain snapped out of his little dream. His eyes shot open and began glowing underneath his mask, leaving a wisp of cerulean that formed a faint trail as his eyes darted to the sound of the creaking boards. Its origin appeared to be coming from the direction of the wooden stairs. The only entrance and escape from the docks to which he and the body dwelled within. Someone was about to stumble themselves upon his work. That would have been the rational thought.

But perhaps the sound was nothing more than a figment of Cain's imagination, or dwindling sanity? But inside of Cain's sanity, among the ear piercing screaming that rung out in his ears or the glee-filled faces that flashed within his mind whenever he closed his eyes, this was not a product of his mind. The sound he heard was very much real. It was human, man-made. Drunk or suspicious, neither motive mattered.

Everyone is guilty of something, no one is purely innocent. There was no such thing as coincidence either. No happy little accidents existed in this world. The one who made the noise wouldn't make an exception to this rule. Whoever they were, they were just as guilty as Faye.

In the fading moonlight, Cain saw the silhouette of a thickset man descending the wooden stairs. At first, he appeared to be walking at a moderate pace. That is until he reached the third step did Cain hear an audible gasp escape the man's throat. Cain already knew what the man had seen. The gallons of blood that were smearing every corner of the docks. It's amazing how much blood can be poured out of a single wound. No matter how small it seemed to Cain, blood just couldn't stop pouring from Faye's neck.

"Oh shit... What the fuck happened here?" The man said aloud to himself. His voice quivered, and even from a distance, Cain could see the whites and magenta of his gaping eyes.

The man quickly took out his pistol, a Colt single-action army, and held the barrel close to his chest. He began walking ever more slowly, soaking in his surroundings. No matter what he saw or what noise he heard, the trigger was the only thing that truly mattered. He would shoot without any hesitation. His life depended on how quickly he could pull the trigger.

Inhalations and exhalations of air echoed through the wind, as the man slowly began to steady his breathing by taking in deep breathes. Even from a distance, Cain could smell the bitter scent of alcohol that laced the man's breath.

"October ale… isn't too strong of a drink, good for dates and celebrations. But it does have one hell of a scent. Ah, so that's why Faye was such easy prey tonight. Smelled her from a mile away." Cain thought to himself. A silent chuckle followed.

Cain refocused himself back onto the man, instead of the blood tattered corpse that was Faye. He could see that the man wasn't shaking as violently as before. Was it a facade of bravery or was it for the sake of survival? Regardless, one thing remained clear to Cain. The man wasn't entirely soft-hearted. He, at least, had some experience living in the godforsaken nation of Vale. Some people did find it difficult growing accustomed to the shit and filth and blood that filled the nation, especially in this area.

Quietly and still, every so slowly, the man descend the stairs. With each small sound, the aged wood would make, it would be followed by a rushed breath and a steadfast silhouette. With this, Cain found the answer to his previous question. It was the former, the man was only putting up a facade.

A small smile began to form underneath Cain's oni mask. An idea conjured within his mind. Plans… So many plans… Like he had for Faye.

Another raucous gasp echoed from the stairwell, snapping Cain back into reality and from his thoughts. The man was now on the seventh stair. Cain had to hold his breath just to contain his deranged chuckling. He knew exactly what the man saw. It was the only thing visible in the fading moonlight.

Faye's fresh, crimson dipped corpse lying perpendicularly to the man. Cain's cerulean eyes lit up once more, briefly and vehemently, peering into the man's soul with glee. The man saw everything that Cain wanted to see. A kunai wedged deep inside the throat of Faye. Crimson liquid still freshly pouring from her windpipe. Shackling blood, not rejuvenating oxygen, just the way Cain liked it.

Cain could see that the man had begun to shiver violently. His dominant hand, which held the revolver, was especially under the little "spell" of fear. It shivered harshly like it was experiencing the equally strident winters of Atlas.

The barrel of the pistol was no longer held close to the man's chest. Instead, it fully pointed outwards and was held by an extended, shaking right hand. The man had to wrap the fingers of his left hand around his arm, as an attempt to steady his aim. His life depended on it after all.

Filled with fear, the man foolishly cried out to the darkness that surrounded Faye's body. "Who are you?! Why the fuck did you do that to an innocent lass?!" The man's words almost choked on the weight of themselves as they exited his mouth.

Cain started laughing. This time, it wasn't silenced. It was audible, just for the man's ears. Even though the mask Cain wore should have muffled some of the noise, the man could hear the emotions tethered to the sounds emerging from Cain's throat. It was like a white static mesh of hysteria and utter insanity. But behind his laugh, there was force hidden that held even more malevolent intentions towards the man.

Cain, still laughing, slowly emerged from the darkness that engulfed the docks. His head was pointed downwards and he held his gut with both hands, as the laughs continually poured from his being.

He was only a mere twenty feet away from the man when he stopped walking forward. Cain had fully entered the moonlight, clad in a spray pattern of blood. The man's knees buckled, unable to move. He was paralyzed entirely by fear. He didn't have the courage or will to move any part of his body. Trapped, was the feeling that dawned on the man. For how long, was the real question.

Cain dropped his hands to his side and slowly looked up. Through his mask, he looked directly into the man's magenta eyes. A spectacle of magenta and cerulean clashed with one another as they met each other's gaze. They seemed to stare at one another for what felt like an eternity, but it was shattered when Cain spoke to the man.

"How naive are you?" Cain whispered in a cold yet smooth voice. "Nobody is innocent."

A whisper may have been all that escaped Cain's mouth, but the words still traveled and filled the man's ears to the brim. Panic and confusion crashed into the fear still present within the man's mind. All three emotions seemed to override the man's rationality. Nothing made sense in the man's mind any longer. Not even the thought of pulling the trigger occurred to him.

"Your magenta eyes..." Cain whispered once more, only it sounded like nails screeching against a board. "I remember them looking at me..."

The man slowly swallowed a breath of air. "Who is this man? Why was he wearing a mask? What's he gonna do to me?"

Those were the only thoughts running through the man's mind. Surely, this lunatic wasn't gonna to kill him, right? Such comforting thoughts of safety were shattered like glass when Cain spoke again. This time, Cain's words were laced with what seemed like poison. The hidden force finally revealed itself.

Wrath was its name.

"YOU WERE THERE. YOU WATCHED. AND DID NOTHING!" Cain yelled with pure hatred and rage, his very heart and soul rooted in the emotions for so long simultaneously poured out onto the man.

His cerulean eyes flared brightly, letting the vicious emotions pour even further. The glow Cain's right eye flickered and suddenly shifted to a dark crimson as if engulfed in this fiery rage. This only further terrified the man.

The pitter-pattering sound of quickening feet was the only thing that registered in the man's mind. Everything, even his vision seemed to merge into a single, grey blur. Fear constrained itself into the man's head, like a series of piano wiring slowly coiling ever so tighter around his neck. Time gradually began to move slowly in the man's eyes. All he saw was Cain dashing towards his position at an inhuman speed. It almost seemed as if he was a blur, fading in and out of reality itself.

Spite glowed with the cerulean and crimson eyes of Cain. Nothing would stand in-between him and the man with magenta eyes. He deserved to die, he was just the same as Faye. The only difference being that Cain was enjoying the little mental breakdown the man was experiencing. Faye died too quickly. But this man... Cain wanted to savor every petty emotion he made. That would satisfy his thirst, at least, for the night.

Miraculously and for just a split second, the man managed to break free from his mental bindings. He remembered that he had a pistol in his hand, cocked and ready to be fired. It was like a light at the end of a tunnel, a chance that had presented itself to the man. Fear wasn't present anymore. It was replaced with desperation. Maybe there was a chance that he could take the shot and live.

Yes, yes! Life was the only thing that mattered. He was praying to the gods for mercy. Whichever heard him didn't matter.

A scream of defiance bellowed from the man's chest. Desperation, not fear, now guided his actions. He knew that much was true, but at the very least, it allowed the man to move after what seemed to be an eternity. If there were any doubts left inside his mind, it did not matter anymore. The only thing that did, was the trigger of his revolver.

He pointed the gun straight at Cain's head in a fraction of a second. He held his breath, counting to three as he steadied his right eye along with his aim. All the years at the docks had trained his reflexes well. A small flicker of the trigger was enough to propel the bullet out, and away from the grasp of the barrel. The ignition of gunpowder was the light of hope, signaling the man's triumph over death.

Or was it truly what it appeared to be?

The man's mark was true, yes. Yet, the bullet met nothing in its path. Nothing except for blood flies. It was as if he had been consumed by them, in a fraction of a second. At least, to the man it appeared that way.

In truth, Cain was the essence of the blood flies. He slowly began swarming around the man. The flies' smell for blood could sense the man's blood had run cold with fear. Only a moment in time... but Cain felt every ounce of fear the man conjured inside his heart and soul. He could have attracted an army of Grimm all by his lonesome.

Whispers emanating from the flies began to ring within Cain's mind, telling him all about the man.

He's an orphan, but only because of his own ideas and the circumstances to which he set upon his parents. He's a rapist. He was many sons, yet, he does not know any of their names. He's a bastard, he killed everyone who's loved him just for a taste of power.

The last piece of the man's life struck a certain chord within Cain. There wasn't a hint of doubt within his mind about killing this man before, and there certainly wasn't any now. Death would be the only redeeming quality of this man.

It was a small moment, however, time was simply minute in the grand scheme of Cain's life. Months would seem to fly past him in the blink of his crimson and cerulean eyes. Still, little moments like these embedded themselves into Cain's mind. They gave him a sense of satisfaction, however, it was to a thirst that could not be quenched. But that did not mean that he had to rush through these moments or despise them. If anything, it was all he now lived for. The thrill of the hunt, that was all that mattered.

Cain did not care for the concept of time, but he could still feel the effects of its principals. It kept moving forward regardless of anything. In that very instant, the moment faded into the past and Cain manifested himself into the present. He had crept out of the dark veil and was now in the moonlight of the physical plain. Right behind the man.

Still shocked and confused, the man hadn't moved an inch from his position. His mind was still attempting to rationalize what he had witnessed. He was so dazed and occupied that he did not realize the looming entity that had spawned right behind him.

"Hello, Bastard..." Cain had whispered into the man's right ear. It wasn't filled with the same kind of rage as before. Instead, it had switched back to the former smooth voice.

The man's magenta eyes shot wide open. He spun around as quickly as humanly possible but in doing so, caused his body to lose balance on the wooden steps. He felt his body begin to spiral downwards. But before fully succumbing to gravity's will, he leaned his head forward to confirm his fears. There Cain stood. A step higher from where his falling body was.

"How... In the fucking hell... Was he there?!" This was all the man thought before tumbling down the wooden stairs.

Ten steps... it took ten steps. A perfect round number. And with it, ten audible sounds of flesh hitting wood. The last step produced a noise that sent chills of pleasure writhing up Cain's back. It was the sound of a bone snapping into two.

It was only moments before the man came from his fall. He had landed on his back, only giving a minor cushion to his fall. The instinct of the man first guided him to use his senses to survey his surroundings. First was his vision, but when he did open them, he was only greeted by a blurry mess of the world around him. Next was his smell, only smell the salt that laced the water and air around him. Following was the audible queues. The man only heard the faint sound of waves crashing against the wooden supporting beams of the docks.

Finally was his physical ability to feel. When he tapped into the sense, it came with agony in the form of a burning sensation in his right leg.

The man's vision had finally cleared up and his eyes immediately looked at his leg. Horror filled the man's adrenaline shot eyes as he stared at the remainder of his precious limb. His tibia had been shattered in the middle of his shin, its bones protruding out of the mortal bindings of flesh. The wound itself was a fountain, spewing fresh blood onto the wooden floorboards and into the saltwater.

He continually stared at his wound, frozen and unsure of what to do. But the sound of creaking wood broke him from his trance. He peered up, to see what made the noise. Although, he already knew where the noise came from, who produced it, and what his magenta eyes would meet. Instinctually, he looked up anyway, despite the voice in his head screaming at him not to. A foolish man indeed.

Cain had slowly begun descending the wooden steps. As if taunting the man, like pouring vinegar over his open wound, he moved just as slowly as the man had. It was as if they had switched places, for lack of a better term. Each step sent shivers down both men's spines. For the man, it was fear. As for Cain, it was the sadistic pleasure.

Step... step... step... These were the only things the man could focus on. His wounded leg seemed a mere trifle hinderance to him. The same questions the man had asked himself rung out inside his mind once more.

"Who is this man? What's is he gonna do to me?" Same questions, and the same naivete to the truth that was set before him. He'll never live long enough for these questions to become answered.

One, last, step. That's all it took to send the man back into his animalistic state of desperation. Furiously digging his palms into the rotten wood beneath his body, he began crawling away as an attempt to flee Cain. Yet for some reason, he just couldn't take his eyes off of his pursuer. It was as if there was an unknown entity gluing his eyes in place. But this wasn't a manifestation of the man's mind. There was something really there. Just beyond the reach of the moonlight, hidden behind Cain like a looming shadow. It would not dare to let the man live, or did dare to reveal itself to the man.

Cain found it so amusing how fast the man was moving away from him, despite his broken leg. He also found it comical how much ground he was covering... and how much he had left before having his back trapped by a wall made of water. This is why Cain had some favorite spots all over the nation, always little corners to trap his victims. Of course, visiting the same spots out of sheer favoritism was both childish and stupid. It would have attracted too much attention. And Cain always did want the element of surprise on his side. Having people becoming too vigilant of his actions would... complicate things. But tonight was a good night. A very good night. He then slowly began to walk, finishing his descent from the stairs. He kept walking until he stopped right in front of the dead corpse of Faye. He knelt down beside her neck and in one swift motion, unlodged the kunai from her throat. Slowly, he began coiling the rope back up.

The man was moving so quickly and frantically, he didn't even realize he was at the edge of the docks' planks. Hell, his right hand literally slipped off of the makeshift ground and drove his wrist into the saltwater below. Trapped, cornered. This was finally it. After what felt like an eternity of fight death, he now had to make peace with the gods, even though they had abandoned him to this psychopath. He clenched his eyelids together, attempting to some form of reconciliation for his life. Slowly, he opened his eyes. And was met with a peculiar. Cain did not move an inch from Faye's corpse. He had stood up, but that was the extent of his movement. He hadn't even looked at the man. All he did was continuously stare at the body that was faintly touching his feet.

Anxiety washed over the man. The feeling of anticipation was the only emotion he felt now. Fear and desperation were now unfruitful emotions to him. All he could do was wait for his time on Remnant to come to a close. True silence had befallen the both of them. Not even the water made a single sound. The heartbeats of the man seemed to be hushed, for it too was waiting.

Finally, Cain shifted his position slightly, only tilting his head upwards. Cerulean and magenta, once again, met with one another. Only this time, there was a mutual understanding between the two. Death was certain. How and when... those were the real questions.

A small cracking sound broke the silence between the two men. Immediately, the man's eyes darted all around him, curious as to what Cain had done or was doing. After seeing the man look all around him, he scoffed in amusement before finally speaking. "Ah... it seems they've hatched."

In that very instant, it dawned on the man where the noise was emanating from. His eyes slowly peered at his broken leg. Horror struck his magenta eyes at the sight of the remains of his legs. A hive somehow had formed inside his leg as was now beginning to fester. "Wha- Wha-?" Those were the only phrases the man could mutter out of his throat.

"The real question would be when", Cain jeered at the man. "And to answer that one, it was when you crawled over Faye's body. Though, you were probably too panicked to even remember that."

It was all true. The man couldn't remember what had happened during his lapse of desperation. He was blinded by the fear that had stricken him so deeply. His only deathly mistake was in fact, human nature. Suddenly, the man began to cough violently. On instinct, he used his palm to cover his mouth. After opening his eyes from his fierce outbreak, he stared down into his palm. Blood had made a small puddle in the center. However, that wasn't the most terrifying part. The man could see something squirming in the blood. It was a larva.

The man looked back up at Cain, his eyes were filled with a mixture of horror, distress, and misery. He tried to look into the piercing cerulean eyes of Cain, searching for an ounce of pity or anything at all. But no emotion could be felt from those eyes. They were the essence of pure nothingness.

"Soon they will grow up into full-fledged blood flies. But it'll be too soon for you to feel the release of death." Cain told the man. He just continued to stare at the man, anxious and waiting. It was the feeling the man felt earlier, the only difference is their perspectives.

Blood began to flood the man's windpipe as the larvae had begun feasting on his lungs and slowly moving their way up his esophagus. They were almost fully grown now. The man could even feel them squirming upwards in his body. Pain flooded his senses. He had used up all of his adrenaline. There was nothing now to suppress the pain the man felt. He could feel them moving quicker by the second. His eyes began to tear up with blood as the parasites chewed his optic nerve. He was now blind. Not that he could see anything from the beginning of the wretched process. The pain was too much to bear, that it entirely blurred his past vision.

"Oh gods, please! Take me now!" The man mentally cried out but to no avail.

But suddenly, the larvae stopped their feasting. This left the man panting, all be it with blood lacing his breath. He looked towards where he had last seen Cain. His vision couldn't confirm his what he thought, but he knew for a fact that Cain was watching this entire time. "Why don't you just kill me?" The man pleaded, but at this point, his voicebox was completely devoured.

"Ask... and you will receive," Cain told the man. "How the most damned of hells did he know what I said?! How-"

On Cain's queue, the man's thoughts ceased... along with the man's life. In a single instant, the larvae burst forth out of the man's head as full gown blood flies. The sheer force of their numbers was enough to split the man's head into two, right down the middle. They formed a small "cloud" and began to move towards Cain. With the man dead, Cain turned his back towards the eviscerated body and began to walk back up the wooden stairs. By the time he placed his foot on the first set of stairs, the flies had surrounded him. Cain smiled underneath his oni mask, satisfied with his work. He used his wrist to motion the flies towards him. At once, they all embedded themselves into Cain. However, they were not feasting on his flesh just as they did previously with the man. Instead, they were merging themselves with Cain's very being. In one small moment, the flies and Cain had become one. Just as it had been before.

Cain didn't flinch throughout the whole ordeal. His cerulean eyes remained bloodshot and unwavering. He wanted to imagine that his death wasn't quick to any bystander who could have witnessed what had just unfolded. Even if anyone saw, as unlikely as it seemed, none aided him to safety. Or would they even believe what they saw?

"Just another day in paradise..." Cain thought to himself before subconsciously licking his lips.