DISCLAIMER: I own nothing exept Dante. R.I.P. Monty Oum.
"Ahh!" a boy screamed out in pain. He had cuts and stab wounds all over his body. He had gotten many of those through being the practice dummy of one of the most "prestigious" and wealthy families. The Schnees. They had bought his father and mother at the same auction. Once he had been born, he was made a slave. He had been given a name, yet it's never been used. His name was Dante.
"Boy! Get back up! You aren't leaving until I master this technique!" snapped the girl standing across from him. She was his torturer, the one who caused so much of his pain. Weiss Schnee.
Dante slowly stood up only to be knocked back down be a backhand. He was seething. A growing chill began to permeate the room as if the heat was slowly being sucked out. Dante, however, began to heat up. His hands especially felt hot.
Dante began to stand back up. Weiss stabbed him in the stomach, and something snapped inside him. The temperature, which had been slowly dropping, plummeted suddenly and Dante ignored the rapier and looked down. His hands were on fire, yet he was not burned. The flames around his hands flared as his rage rose to boiling point. "No," whispered Dante, "Not anymore."
He grabbed the rapier with one hand only for it to melt in his grasp. The droplets fell to the ground as Weiss looked on in shock. She looked up in fear and saw a flaming fist making its way towards her face. She barely dodged it, but felt another fist slam into her gut searing through her shirt and severely burning her stomach. Dante leaned in and whispered; "Now you have a taste of all the pain you've put me through."
"Guards!, Help me!" Weiss shrieked in absolute terror only as the temperature dropped. Bang! Guards flooded the room and surrounded Dante. They took aim and shot him with enough tranquilizers to sedated twenty horses. Dante dropped to the floor and was dragged out of the room. Nobody noticed the temperature rise back to the original number.
Clang! The sound of metal clashing filled the cell. "Yo Dante! Ya got a visitor." A prison guard said.
"Thanks, Boris, let him in will you?" replied Dante.
He looked up and saw a middle aged man with silver hair. He wore a deep green jacket and had a cane embossed with silver along the ball handle. He wore khaki pants and black shoes someone would see a rich man wear.
"So just by the looks of you, you're a headmaster of some kind of combat school, you've come to recruit me for said school even though you have no clue of my past, what I'm in for and who I am. Lemme tell you something, I do not care." Dante deduced.
The man was flabbergasted. He could not believe how accurate the boy was, but he refused to show is surprise. "My name is Professor Ozpin, and yes, I would like to recruit you for my school, Beacon Academy."
"Sure why not. It's not like I have anything else to do." Dante said as he walked through the bars, they melted. "Just lemme get changed."