A Mask of Black
Rouge O'Hare was a simple woman. She had never considered herself very special. Like others in her family, she had lived through the Faunus War, and had experienced first-hand the cruelty which humanity was capable of. Then came the White Fang, promising equality and justice. She had been surprised when they asked her to volunteer, but she never doubted for an instant that they were doing the right thing. When Ghira had stepped down, and a new leader took his place, she gladly pledged to serve Sienna Khan as well. She was shocked at the direction Khan decided to take the White Fang, but when she saw just how effective her methods were, she never doubted that she had chosen the right path. Rouge may not have been as good a fighter as other members, but she contributed however she could. Mostly she ran whatever errands the leader of her cell required of her. That is, until that day, the day the monster came, the day that everything she had known fell apart.
Like many auspicious days, this one started off like any other. Ms. O'Hare had been sent into town to pick up groceries, the ease with which her rabbit tail could be hidden making her an ideal candidate to barter with the human merchants. All had gone well, the apple merchant even slipped a note into her basket as she paid him, intel from a sympathizer to the cause. Pleased with her work, she made her way back to the base, a fortified compound hidden in the jungle. As she went, she hummed happily to herself, surreptitiously checking for pursuers, just like she had been taught. So focused was she on what was behind her, though, that she almost failed to notice what was ahead of her.
The first thing she noticed was the smell of smoke. Stopping in her tracks, she thought back to her training and began to make her slowly forward. The next thing she noticed was an orange glow shining through the trees, coming from the direction of the compound. Whispering pleas of fear, she made her way further in, until she began to hear a sound which chilled her blood. That sound was the sound of screaming, not from one voice, but from many. Dropping all pretense of stealth, she bounded forward, racing to reach the compound. But just before she burst through the trees, she noticed another smell, hidden under the oppressive scent of smoke. It was a surprisingly pleasant smell, so enticing it made her almost lose the contents of her stomach; the smell of roasting meat.
The sight that met her eyes, when at last she found herself at the compound, was one of nightmarish horror. The entire compound was burning, a smoking crater where the armory used to be giving an excellent indicator of the source of the flames. Through the flickering glow of the flames, she could see her friends, her companions, burning alive. The screams were heart-rending and terrifying, and she knew she could do nothing to help them, for through it all, a black figure calmly strode. It moved through the flames as if they weren't even there, completely unfazed, almost seeming to flicker and move with the light. She thought that it might be some sort of Grimm, but she had never heard of such a Grimm, certainly not one that moved with such a sense of foreboding purpose. With its height and surprising thinness, Rogue could not help but be reminded of some sort of omen of death. With calm, deliberate motions, it moved through the carnage, approaching the dying members of her cell. Whenever it came close enough, a long, black sword would materialize in its left hand, and with a single swing, it would remove the head of its victim. Some members of the organization who had escaped the flames were attempting to shoot the monster, but those bullets which hit it did not even slow down, passing through as if it wasn't even there. Rouge began to back away slowly, doing her best to make no noise, but, as if alerted by some sixth sense, the creature looked up from the slaughter, turning its head directly towards her. The monster had no face, instead its black head glowed with orange light, reflecting the light from the flames. Seeing that horror, Rouge made the only sane decision, she turned on her heel and she ran.
Now, I would like to say that Ms. O'Hare made it safely out of the woods; that she returned to the town and found safe haven, but I'm afraid that neither she, nor any other member of the White Fang ever made it out of that jungle. When the villagers finally went to find the source of the fire, all they found was the gutted remains of the compound, a pile of headless corpses, and an arrangement of meticulously cleaned skulls, spelling out a single word, Taurus. And somewhere far away, in a dimly lit corridor, on a table which additionally held two masks, a helm, and a hat, sat a mask of obsidian glass, just slightly stained with ash and blood.