Chapter 1

"Sleep is important. Like, really important."


Blake made a new friend, and by complete accident without Yang's intervention. Somehow, it went a lot nicer than she would have thought.

Jaune Arc and Blake Belladonna were two wholly different individuals in every way possible—Jaune was blond, friendly and goofy while Blake was black-haired, a bit reserved and serious. That alone may not have been enough to convince most people, but just a single glance at them standing side-by-side would have most people agreeing that they were complete opposites of one another.

Opposites attract, one would say, which she felt wasn't true, though it seemed to have held up in their meeting moments prior. After all, there was little else that she could say regarding the fact that she and Jaune became friends.

Or acquaintances, she supposed. After all, while their teams occasionally hung out, the both of them never interacted with one another before. Sure, she greeted him from time to time and made sure to include her in discussions, but there was never a moment where they actively sought out one another during their free time. That might just change after today, it seems like.

Now, if anyone ever assumed that she was in any ways antisocial, she wasn't (no matter what Yang says). It was simply the fact that her childhood involved her devoting much of her life to the White Fang. She'd stuck by even when they'd turned to more violent methods, which made socializing that much harder.

Oh, but she did have friends. Ilia was one such example, although theirs was a little… ahem. Awkward. And Adam counted as one, although they went from childhood friends to lovers and finally complicated. And there was… uhh…

Blake suddenly paused in the middle of the corridor, eyes slowly going wide. Her companion promptly stopped when he realized she wasn't walking with him, turning to regard her with a confused look. "Blake? Is something wrong?"

"No, it's… just me coming to terms with something," namely the fact that she didn't have a lot of friends growing up, and that the only two people she was close with were both interested in her in an awkward way. She winced.

"Oof. Probably isn't as bad as you think it is?"

"Coming from you, my issue really does make me seem kind of pathetic," the girl sighed. "No, it's just me realizing that I didn't have a lot of friends back when I was a kid. A few here and there, but never enough to really call close, you know?"

"Ahh… Yeah, that kind of sucks."

"What about you?" She asked then, moving to join him. They began walking once more.

"Me? Well, there's nothing all that special about me," he said with a shrug. "Ansel's a little place, so everyone knows everyone. Even then, I'd still say that I'm way closer with everyone here than I was with any of the people my age back home. Besides, I was one of the unpopular kids. Never got bullied, but never stood out, ya' know?"

She cringed when he called himself that, having thought that he filled the role rather perfectly, what with his relative averageness. "That's…"

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm not as upset about it as you think I am," his laughter helped ease her guilt. "And it's like I said, I'm comfortable here. I wouldn't think to trade that for anything."

"I see… Say, talking about schooling. Why didn't you go to a huntsman prep school, or even got training?"

"Ah… That's a little hard to explain," the way he said it, as well as how he rubbed the back of his neck, meant that it was relatively serious. He pushed on before she could tell him to drop it. "My dad was always against me picking up the sword. Said that the life of a huntsman is dangerous, so he'd wanted to keep me away from it. That literally meant he wouldn't let me get any form of exposure to that life, be it training or even going to a school. Though, it's also partly my fault."

"It is?"

"Sort of. I was always a lazy kid. Never really thought about my future goals and stuff. Always going with the flow. I suppose my dad didn't think I was capable of truly pursuing my dream, so he'd thought I wouldn't do it."

And yet, here he was. Not exactly in the best of standings, but he was working to improve that. That, alone, meant that he had the right to be here with the rest of them, no matter what others thought about him.

After all, if she thought about it, the both of them weren't any different. Sure, Blake had been trained in combat thanks to her time serving as a White Fang member, but she had still been a part of a dangerous organization. She had hurt people before. In that aspect alone, Jaune was innocent, and that black stain should have marred her from coming here.

And yet, the headmaster had not sought to push her out of his academy. He'd accepted her, and Jaune, and that meant he trusted in them.

That single thought has her feeling a little lighter, grinning back at her newly-made friend… acquaintance? Well, that's a little hard. "Well, then you'd better not give up so early, right? Otherwise, all the effort you've put in and all the help Pyrrha and Ruby have given you will go to waste."

"Yeah… Yeah, that's true!" He nodded, determination renewed. "It's not just about me anymore. I've got a team to consider, and I'll be a worthy leader! I'll work hard to earn their trust!"

Idiot. His teammates love him already. Heck, his partner likes-likes him, even if he was openly flirting with Weiss like there wasn't a tomorrow. Still, no need to rain on his parade.

As the two of them reach their rooms, Blake waved him goodbye as he did the same, retreating into his room and greeted with bombastic cheer. The faunus chuckled, unlocking her room with her scroll before stepping inside. Just another day in Beacon.


Mondays. Urgh. How she despised them so. The start of the week, promising five back-to-back days of lessons, assignments and exhaustion.

Blake groaned into her pillow as she turned on her bed, reminded of a meme she once saw online about how each weekday was a contribution to a person's laziness; the Monday blues, Tuesday having remnants of Monday's blues, Wednesday being the middle of the week, Thursday being the second last day to freedom, and Friday signalling the end. A person is only ever alive during the weekends.

Frankly, she believed it. She really didn't want to go to classes.

'Get up already,' she chastised herself in her mind. 'Get to the showers before all the hot water is stolen.'

That alone was enough to force her awake, twisting herself about to press her padded feet on—gah! Cold! The floor was too cold!

Burying her hiss underneath a throaty grumble, the girl forced herself into the bathroom with a towel and her toiletries, making full use of her early rise to get a good hot shower in. Add some nice shower scrub and lavender-scented shampoo, and you've got a recipe for a good start.

And she made sure not to use all the hot water because, unlike a certain someone, she wasn't going to hog all good things for herself. She was a good person and a good teammate.

Stepping out of the bathroom, it was only a matter of seconds before a blonde blur rushed past her, locking the door with haste. Immediately after, Weiss threw herself at the door, rapping at the surface.

"Yang Xiao Long! Get out of there! I am not going to shower cold!"

"But you gotta'! You're literally an Ice Queen!"

"I swear to everything under the sky, if you don't get out now, I will destroy everything that you hold dear!"

"Lalala, I can't hear you!"

Ignoring the heiress's growling as well as her snoozing leader, Blake got through the motions of dressing herself up. The sound of rushing water ran in the background, outdone by the explosive argument that the 'W' and 'Y' of their team were having. Simply put, a Beacon day like any other.

Pulling out her scroll, she glanced at the timetable and inwardly cringed at how packed this week was going to be. The only saving grace would be the fact that Thursday would have two lessons cancelled because the teachers have to go for some conference, something which she would happily accept.

Choosing to ignore her worries for how packed the schedule, she opted to just sit on her bed and look through her lecture notes—pre-reading was never exactly her thing, though she could do with some additional effort every now and then. As she did so, the rest of her team busied themselves preparing for the day.

A knock on the door catches all of her attention, followed by a familiar voice. "Heeey, Ruby. You girls done?"

"Just a little longer!" Ruby hollered back, putting on her hood.

"Just making sure. Nora asked me to go check in on y'all in case you overslept."

Gee, she sure appreciated the level of trust in their ability to look after themselves. The girls shared a collective eyeroll.

It took a little while for them to finally be done, grab their stuff and head out the door. Thankfully, they had quite some time for breakfast, so rushing wouldn't be necessary. Weiss would make a big fuss over things if they were ever late for class like the first day—man, aren't the memories old but fresh at the same time.

"Yo!" Her partner greeted to their sister team, who were all already waiting outside for them. "Y'all waited for us or something? Sheesh. Talk about early."

"It just happened by chance. And morning to all of you," Jaune spared a nod for everyone there. Even one for her, which she returned. And then, his grin turned a little roguish (or, well, he tried to make it seem that way) as he winked at Weiss. "And to you as well, Snow Angel."

Like always, her reaction is less than pleased by this, expression pinched. "Urgh. Spare me your nonsense, Arc. I don't need your stupidity this early in the morning."

From Weiss' upfront chagrin to Jaune sweat-dropping at his failed flirt, to everyone else's amusement and Pyrrha's sigh, this really was a normal morning for her.


Back in the day, Blake had been an excellent early riser. She'd always gotten up to join her father out at sea, ready to start the day off with a haul or two. Those were always fun, and that ability to get up early had carried over to her days in the White Fang.

Fast forward to the present day here in Beacon, and Blake was already feeling the subtle tug of drowsiness. Probably had to do with the fact that she'd slept late these past few days, so readjusting her sleep schedule would help in the future. And one thing that would help? Breakfast.

Everyone walked to the cafeteria together, Nora, Yang and Ruby providing the bulk of the conversation. Most of the words flew over her head, though she did perk up when the reaper mentioned a field assignment to come in the next three days. Well, at least it would be something different.

Arriving at the cafeteria, its grand hall is ever stupefying as it always is. They picked out a spot close to the entrance, all the easier to leave the place in case they wanted to go early.

"Alright, whose turn is it to watch the tables this time?" Nora asked. It was a system they put in place to have two people—one from each team—to guard their table while the others would go get their food. It wasn't necessary, but it would be a real pain to have to find another table if someone took theirs.

"It's mine," Jaune said. "I'll keep watch."

"And Blake's, if I remember properly," Weiss hummed. "Blake, is that fine with you?"

…Wait, really? It's her turn to watch the tables? Her eyes met Jaune's for a moment before she nodded back, wordlessly. The rest of their friends took that cue to leave and grab their breakfast. Jaune then took his seat at one corner, while Blake opted to take the seat opposite of him.

And then, silence.

For a while, neither of them said or did anything. The boy in front of her simply fiddled his thumbs while she stared at the surface of the table.

Well… this is awkward.

Blake recalled the times when she had stayed behind to watch the table, though it had never been with Jaune thus far. She'd done so with Nora and Ren, and those two… well, Nora never stopped talking, and she'd just responded wherever necessary, whereas Ren just didn't talk a whole lot, which spared her the trouble.

Now that she thought about it, she doesn't really talk all that much with anyone outside of her team. Sure, she makes sure to respond when asked a question or two, but she'd never really made much conversation. Initiating it was even rarer for her, and she was used to giving short and simple answers. The same applied for her team too.

'Urgh. This is ridiculous. Was I always this bad at socializing, and I just never realized it?'

To be fair, that was never all that important back then. As a White Fang member, communication never really mattered as long as you were able to fight. She kind of wished she had worked on that, though, if only to spare her this weird mood.

"So," Jaune began, breaking her out of her thoughts. He spread his arms on the table, grinning. "I'm feeling a little dumb. You?"

"Same," admitting that was easy enough, her sigh coming after. "Honestly, I'm not sure what to say. This is the first time I've had to watch the table with you, and since we've never talked much before this, I literally don't know what to say to you…"

"Hey, I'm pretty sure that's just part of the friend process. At least, the first bit," he offered, making her perk up.

"You think I'm a friend?"

"Eh. Well, you know my philosophy when it comes to friends," right. That friends are just strangers you haven't met yet. Easily one of the most naïve yet endearing ideas yet. "And sure, we're technically friends by association through Ruby, but we," he gestured at himself and her. "Can certainly be friends. With time."

"I suppose…"

"So like, I think it's okay if we take it at our own pace. Not every friendship's got to start off with an explosion."

That alone evoked the memory of Ruby's first day in Beacon, making her snicker. "That sure was something, huh?"

"Definitely was. I'd only been there in the aftermath, so I never really knew what happened. After Ruby filled me in, though? Hah," he laughed. "I wished I'd been there to see it."

"It certainly was something."

"Yeah…" Another pause, though one that thankfully wasn't as awkward as before, and certainly didn't last as long as the previous one. "So, having something to talk about at the moment would really help a lot, huh?"

It really would. "Any ideas?"

"Looking forward to Professor Port's tall tales?" Her groan was answer enough. Jaune just laughed. "Yeah, figured as much. You, me, and just about the entire student body."

"I seriously don't get how he could have the gall to tell such romanticized stories to us. They're unrealistic in every way, shape and form. Even Weiss, for how much she tries to be patient, has complained about his eccentricities once or twice."

"Well, that's just part of his charm, I suppose," no. No, he was not going to use that excuse. She made her glare very obvious. "Hah. Alright, alright. We'll agree to disagree, or something along those lines. How about combat class? Looking forward to fighting anyone?"

"I don't care much about it," she shrugged. "I personally don't care too much about finding someone to fight. Yang and Nora, on the other hand…"

"Snrk, no kidding. Nora, especially, is always excited to get into the swing of things. All about 'breaking people's legs'."

Blake was about to snort at that, though she stopped last minute to consider the idea. "Does she actually…"

"Honestly, I'm not sure…" The fact that he hadn't outright denied it made her falter. He gave her a weak smile. "I'm pretty sure she jokes most of the times, but if there was a situation where she could actually do it if someone insults her or one of us? I'd bet both of my kidneys that she'd go ahead with it."

Oh, joy. "Oh, joy…"

"But I'm sure she means well. She's… Nora."

"She's Nora, huh? Somehow, that answers just about everything there is to know about her," and despite all her quirks, Blake saw nothing but a really friendly girl who cared about her partner and all her friends. That kind of trait isn't something most people have, and it's one that she finds refreshing, even if the girl can be overbearing at times.

And terrifying, if she would ever see her promise realized one day.

"Yeah…"

"…We are really bad at this."

"Are we? I think this is pretty okay."

"Really? You're actually serious?" Because if his idea of something being 'okay' involved the two of them sitting in front of each other with only just the barest of things to say to one another, then his expectations of social norms must be pretty low.

"I mean, sure, we've never talked before. In class, or during training, or anything. Before even yesterday. Not like I'm saying it's your fault or anything," he added hurriedly—sweet of him, but technically true. She does say very little. "But the fact that we're talking at all now is an improvement. Er, sort of? Going from a zero to a one is still a net positive…"

Somehow, she doubted that was how it works, though there was some truth to his words.

Not all friendships have to start off perfect, even if his first here in Beacon was practically that; Ruby and Jaune had gone from strangers to awkward friends to best buddies (well, he counts as Ruby's best guy friend, since Weiss occupies the true seat of Ruby's bestie) in record time, but trying to base her friendship with Jaune that way would be a little unfair to them. After all, where Ruby and Jaune had the benefits of sharing many similarities, she didn't.

So really, going at it slow and steadily despite all the initial awkwardness was fine. Things can still work out in the end. She needn't look any further than Ruby and Weiss, who'd started off on the wrong foot before becoming the close pair that they are now.

Hmm. Now that she thought about it, her friendship with Jaune's could be classified as rather abrupt, since she'd technically forced herself upon him because of her insistence to look at whatever he'd been trying to hide. She winced at that. Some first impression.

'Well, he said he's okay with talking about it later, so I guess it's fine …'

"So, Blake," the faunus blinked herself back to reality. "Any place where you want to meet up?"

"The library's good enough. It'd be really distracting in my room, and I'd assumed you'd appreciate the privacy."

"That would be nice, yeah," he nodded. "Cool. Then… let's say, half an hour after classes, I guess? I'll meet up with you there."

"We could do that, yeah."

"Cool. It's a plan."

Their conversation ended there when the rest of their friends returned to the table, allowing her and Jaune to go and grab their food next. Although, at this rate, she was more admittedly a little interested in knowing just what was that he did on a regular basis that was apparently related to his fondness of horror stories. She felt like going without breakfast would have been fine.

"Oh yeah, I remember someone mentioning that there's tuna melt sandwich today. I wonder if there's still some left."

On second thought, breakfast just sounded like a godsend.


The rest of the day went on like usual, the homework thankfully light this time. There was also no such drama to deal with, so everything pretty much went swimmingly.

After she had her shower and was dressed in her combat attire (students weren't allowed to wear casual clothes while they were on academy grounds, limited only to their school attires or combat outfits. A weird rule, but one she didn't mind), she was ready to go meet up with Jaune in the library.

"Heading out to meet a date, Kitty Kat?"

"I'm pretty sure that if I had a date, you would've known all about him before I do," she rolled her eyes back at the blonde's teasing. Her partner was sat up on her bed, and she had to remind herself that it wouldn't fall on her in her sleep. She practically prayed every night for it to remain sturdy. "And no, I'm heading off to the library to read."

"Boo. You're such a bookcat."

"Bookworm," she corrected.

"Nah. I meant what I said," of course she did. Either that, or she just never stopped to think on what she wanted to say before she just let them out.

"Uh-huh. If you need anything, just message me on my scroll."

Her teammates gave their responses, and she set off once she'd shut the door behind her, walking down the corridor towards one of the most unvisited locations of the academy, though the serious students and those who were doing some last-minute cram work would always frequent the place. Her? She just loved the atmosphere.

Miss Goodwitch was there at the desk still, greeting her with a firm nod before she returned to her work. Her walk took her to a section of the library that was relatively secluded, and she wasn't surprised to find a head of blond hair at the table that she'd personally claimed as her own 'territory'.

…God damn it, Yang's pun-making idiocy was beginning to infect her too. Next thing she knows, pigs are really going to rain from the sky.

"Jaune," she greeted, getting him to look up from a book he was reading and smile back at her. "Sorry for taking so long."

"Hey, Blake. And nah, don't worry about it. I just about got here myself," he waved her off.

"That so?" Her eyes glanced at the book in his hands. Not his. "Reading one of the library's books?"

"Yep. I saw this one and got interested, so I'd been reading it since I got here twenty minutes ago," he flipped the book so that she could see the cover. It depicted the silhouette of two people, a man and a woman, holding each other by the hips and staring at each other. Their free hands, however, were extended in the opposite direction, a gun in one's hand while a knife sat in the other's. "This one's a murder mystery, although it focuses more on the mystery aspect than it does anything else. I might borrow it and give it a read later in my spare time."

"Well, if you'd want," she nodded. "Have you ever borrowed books from here?"

"Once or twice, though usually manuals regarding Aura and Grimm."

"Huh. A studious type. That's nice."

"I try my best," he chuckled, a little flustered. "So, er. You wanted to, um, read my… I don't know what to call it. Post? Blog?"

"You say you post it online, so can't I just read it on my scroll? You could've shared the link for the page."

"I was a little embarrassed to just give you it, so maybe just being here while you read it might make it easier for me," wouldn't it technically be the other way in most situations? Eh, if it helps him, she'll let him have it. "So, uh, take out your scroll. I'll send you the link now."

Just as he promised, he sent her a text—the very first one between the two of them. She pressed on the link, and it opened up a surprisingly nice-looking website. Rather than the typical pitch black background, it was stylized more like reading from an old yellow-papered book, what with its dull orange-yellow colouring and simple fonts.

This one must be the 'front page' of the blog website. There was a cartoon drawing of a smiling ghost, with the title Horror Blogs, accompanied with the subtitle 'Where you can get to know all your scary books, games and movies'. The background was a side-to-side scrolling lines of words of all kinds, ranging from spooky to popular and more.

Blake stared at the screen of her scroll, and then at Jaune.

"This is your blogging website? I feel like I'm going to a cooking website of sorts. It's so friendly-looking."

"O-Only the front page is like that, I promise!" He sounded embarrassed when he said that, which she felt like he should be. That ghost wasn't even scary; it was actually rather cute. The big black eyes and the big smile did exactly that.

"Uh-huh."

"They are, I promise!"

Below the supposed 'mascot' of this website, there were four tabs; 'Stories', 'Resources', 'Info' and 'Contacts'. Guess she should click on the 'Stories' to find more.

A list of names popped up on the screen of her scroll, and she was surprised by the sheer number of it all. Jaune must have been working on this one for a pretty long time, perhaps before he even joined Beacon, because there were easily more than a hundred. That's pretty impressive, all things considered.

"You can choose to sort by three categories; written, videogames, and movies. Although, movies will also include short movies and videos you can either find online or elsewhere."

"Okay… Do you have any recommendations?"

"Uhh… How scary do you want it to be?"

Good question. Having never actually exposed herself to horror of any degree, Blake wasn't sure where to start. "I guess one that you really like."

"I like all of them," his response made her roll her eyes. "But okay, if that's the case, then…" He leaned over to flick down on the screen of her scroll, going down the list until he stopped at one, pointing at it.

"The Vacuan Sleep Experiment," she read the name, humming. "Sounds science-y."

"Sure does. I mean, it's got experiment in the name, so that's something."

"Right. And what's good about this one?"

"It's… well, I guess it's not scary. Videogames would be way more effective for that, but it more than makes up for it for its atmosphere. The horrifying imagery it can make you think of. For someone like me who likes to imagine a lot of stuff, reading this thing when I was thirteen was terrible."

Oh, goody. Just what she needed. And she certainly understood the part where those with overactive imaginations tended to enjoy stuff like this more. After all, works like these are purely words and words put together. It ultimately comes down upon the reader to actually dive into that world and embrace it to fully experience the horror, something that she had a feeling she would be able to do just well.

"Alright, I'll bite. So what, I just press on it?"

"Yeah. It'll lead you to the first part, which is the story itself. There's a small table of content to the side where you can press to navigate the blog and find 'Analysis'—that's where I write my critiques and opinions on the story—as well as 'Others'—usually, those are just recommendations of other stories for people who like that sort of thing, or things related to the story. For example, there are people who make audio recordings of the story, and others who made highly accurate videos based on those," he smiled. "I recommend checking them out if you have the time. And there's 'Reviews', where other people shared their own opinions. And memes."

"Memes?"

"Sometimes people joke in the reviews section and share memes. I like to go there and check them out for myself from time to time. They're funny."

She rolled her eyes at that. "Well, whatever makes you happy," memes in a comment section included. "Welp, no other thing to do but just read it, I suppose."

"Mmhm. Have fun! I won't bother you."

This being a short story, it got right into the gist of it, starting off by introducing the reader to the situation; an experiment was being conducted by Vacuan researchers sometime in the middle of the Great War, in what she would assume to be a remote location kept confidential from the public eye. The purpose of this supposed experiment was to keep five people awake for fifteen days using an experimental gas-based stimulant.

Okay, so not starting off on a good note already, though she wasn't sure if this was the worst. After all, if it was just staying awake for just two weeks… Actually, no. She was pretty sure a human wasn't even meant to go beyond two days without sleep. That was just dangerous for the brain. And even she, during her working days, needed at least six hours of sleep at least to function for the next few who-knows-how-long.

Reading on, the story detailed their containment facility; a highly-sealed environment with microphones and five-inches thick glass windows for the researchers to observe the test subjects. Inside, they were equipped with books, cots without bedding for them to sleep on, running water and toilet, and dried food that should last them for an entire month and more. She can imagine the chamber, from the sterilized walls to the smooth floor, down to the very crack in the corner.

'Nothing's wrong so far,' she hummed to herself, scrolling down. 'They have all their necessities, and there isn't any surgery or injections or stuff. This is fine.'

For the first five days, the subjects seemed completely fine. There was no complaining, and they simply behaved as most bored people would; talking with one another and doing what they could do to pass the time, like reading the books provided and stuff. The researchers kept track of them all the while, making sure not to miss out on any detail for the sake of their research.

One thing they noted, however, was the fact that after the fourth day, their conversations were becoming more… gruesome. How, she wasn't sure, for the story did not make it clear what was their topic of conversation, though 'traumatic incidents in their past' had been mentioned. Considering the timeline and the involvement of the Great War, she didn't want to know.

It was after the fifth day mark that things began to change. The test subjects were growing more agitated. They were complaining about their situation, about the world, of what had brought them all to this moment. They were showing marked displays of severe paranoia, likely brought on by the sleep deprivation.

And then they stopped talking. The whispers began.

Blake wasn't sure why that got her. There weren't even any speech in this short story, just lines and lines of text. But in her head, she could imagine everything almost perfectly, down to the very tone of their voices. 'Jaune was right. The moment you start to imagine how things play out, it gets real bad for you. God damn it.'

Nothing of note was made after. It was only after nine days that something snapped; one of the test subjects, who screamed himself hoarse for three hours straight, all while he mindlessly ran around the chamber. Blake winced at the fact that he'd apparently torn his vocal cords, evidenced by his squeaks and the researchers' notes.

What made that even worse was the fact that none of the other test subjects reacted. Like, at all. It painted the image of all of them in Team RWBY's room, with Yang being as loud as possible while the rest of them just tuned her out, except this was a lot more unsettling.

And then another test subject began screaming. The paragraph continued, and the remaining two captives that weren't screaming did something she hadn't expected; they ripped pages from the books and, smeared with their own faeces, pasted them over the glass portholes.

The screaming, and the whispering, ceased abruptly.

Another shudder ran through her. Damn, what was it with this? It was neither exaggerative nor descriptive—just straight to the point. And maybe that was why it worked? It just continued to carry you through the motions, never once stopping. Her brain is able to digest that info and quickly imagine the scenarios, making these moments a lot worse.

Three more days have passed. The researches checked in on the test subjects every hour to make sure that the microphones were working. The subjects shouldn't be dead; they had enough food and oxygen to last the weeks. Yet, there was no noise.

Morning of the fourteenth day. With no way to look inside, since they didn't have any active live-camera systems, they were forced to call out to the test subjects using the intercom system. "We are opening the chambers," he announced. "To test the microphones. Step away from the door and lie flat on the floor or you will be shot. Compliance will earn you your immediate freedom."

"Load of bull," she scoffed. "It literally said that they'd keep them inside regardless of whether or not they stayed awake for thirty days."

"But would they want their freedom?"

"They should—"

She abruptly cut herself short when she read the next line, spoken by one of the captured subjects in a voice far too calm.

'We no longer want to be freed.'

Blake blinked, confused. And so were the researchers and the military forces shelling out the money for the experiments. They didn't want to leave? What did that mean?

The researchers were rightfully befuddled, and they wanted answers. Unable to get any more responses from the test subjects but still determined to understand the situation, it was finally time to bite the bullet and open the chamber.

Midnight, day fifteen. To enter the chamber, they had to remove the gas. Maybe they didn't have gas masks to use? They opted to flush the room of the stimulant gas, and instead fill it with clean air. That was supposed to—

The microphones picked up voices. It was so fast, so sudden. Screaming. Begging for the gas to return. They wanted it back.

The metal doors were opened, and soldiers were sent in to retrieve the test subjects, who screamed louder than ever. And so did the soldiers.

Blake was so glad that there weren't any pictures or a visual recording of this, though her brain was doing its damnedest best to fill in the holes; untouched food rations. Chunks of meat ripped from a dead captive's thighs, stuffed into the drain in the centre of the chamber, which blocked the drain and flooded the room with four inches of water. She gagged a little at the image. Dealing with even a small inch of water in the bathroom was gross. Four inches of that was just horrifying.

And she was sure as hell didn't want to know how much of that was blood. She was sick just thinking of it.

But it was the test subjects themselves who were the ones that caught her attention—to call them 'human' was just too off the mark. They'd eviscerated themselves. Somehow, the abdominal organs below their ribcages had been removed. They still had their heart, lungs and diaphragm, but they'd ripped off the skin and most of the muscles attached to the ribs, exposing the lungs through the ribcage. All the blood vessels and organs remained intact, but rather than staying in the body, as they should, they were all laid out on the floor. Like entrails. Their digestive tracts functioned as normal, pulsating and digesting.

Digesting their own flesh, she learnt a line later. They were literally eating themselves all this time.

'What the fuck is that..!'

The soldiers pushed on, even when they were afraid. Orders were orders, and they were meant to remove these test subjects. So they hardened themselves, and stared those monsters in the eyes as they approached.

Everything broke down after.

The captives were fighting hard, like rabid animals, as they were being extracted from the chamber. One soldier died when he had his throat ripped out, while another was horribly injured when a captive ripped off his testicles and an artery in his leg with his teeth. Blake clenched her teeth reading through that.

Many died. Some survived, but there would be a few who would seek to die, weeks after that horrible incident.

The test subjects did not all survive. One of them had ruptured his spleen, haemorrhaging instantaneously. Attempts to sedate him had failed, even when he'd been injected with ten times the normal dosage of morphine a human was realistically able to tolerate. He'd fought to his very death, breaking a doctor's ribs and arm.

He kept fighting. And fighting. Screaming. Fighting. Even as his heart forced itself to pump as hard as it could for a few more minutes. Two minutes. And then another three, when he just flailed as much as he could, screaming 'More' over and over again. Weaker, quieter. And then, he was gone.

"This story is horrible…"

"Yeah. It ain't pretty."

With two down, there were three left. They were heavily restrained, likely clasped with iron and the like, and transferred to a medical facility. The remaining two who had their vocal cords intact begged; 'Please, let us stay awake. Give us the gas..!'

Stay awake. What was it that necessitated their need to stay up? Why were they so desperate to keep themselves awake, that they would go as mad as they have now?

The following paragraphs were detailing the operations done on the captives. On the one hand, she desperately wanted to skip that, for fear of what dreams tonight would bring. But on the other, she'd mentally prepared herself for this kind of shit, so she went along with it regardless of the upcoming horrors.

One of them, the most injured captive, was taken to the facility's only surgical operating room. As his organs had been outside of his body (God, it must have been a torture to move his body), they had to shift everything back inside. Unfortunately, any attempts to sedate him proved ineffective—somehow, he'd developed a total immunity to the thing.

And he'd fought viciously, which evoked the image of a horrible creature, who'd gone over the deep end and was now struggling to fulfil something beyond him. Snarling, biting and struggling so, so damned hard to keep awake. To keep the light in his eyes. To keep the sleep away.

Dose after dose, failure after failure. It was only after the nth dose did it finally put him under, and the moment his eyelids closed, his heart froze. Completely ceased beating altogether. Autopsies done on him revealed that his blood had triple the normal level of oxygen, to the point that his veins and arteries had more air than actual blood. That was sickening to imagine, and she didn't dare think of what that must have felt like on an actual human.

"Oh God, it really doesn't end. This is so long!"

"It's a short story, but it just keeps pushing you through more and more bad stuff."

Jaune wasn't wrong. One dead captive, now to move onto the next. And this time, they were working with the first one to have lost his voice. They'd thought to put him under anaesthesia, something he'd been incredibly against, but instead accepting when someone suggested they go without. How? He'd practically feel all the cutting!

But that was exactly what happened; accompanied only by one medical professional on the operating table, with not a single dose of painkiller or anaesthesia, he cut into his skin and his flesh. For six whole hours, the surgeon worked to replace his abdominal organs and covered them with whatever was left of his skin.

'…'

And not a single cry. Not a single sound. Just a broken human who felt nothing as his body was worked on, conscious throughout the moment. Felt the skin and meat cut apart, felt his insides exposed and touched. Nothing leaves his lips.

When the surgery ended, the 'patient' looked at his surgeon and began to wheeze loudly, his throat so hoarse. How she could even hear it in her head, she wasn't sure, nor did she like it. And neither did the surgeons, she would have guessed, though they took it as a sign of him trying to ask them something, hence why one of them requested a pen and pad for the patient to write down his message.

The next message made her shiver yet again: 'Keep cutting.'

There is little else to be noted here. This story isn't particular about explaining everything, but what little is mentioned still has her rubbing her arm in unease. The remaining two subjects were operated just the same, both without anaesthesia once more, and she can only imagine what the surgeon must have been thinking in that time. What were these things? What was happening? And why. Were. They. Laughing?

He ultimately had to inject them with paralytics to keep them shut during the operation, unable to tolerate that moment of insanity. Even silenced, however, they bore down on his soul, watching him with their eyes. She wouldn't have been able to tolerate the attention, much less so this man who's staring horror in the eyes.

"This sort of reminds me of that, err, the thing with the painting where the eyes follow you wherever you move," she mused, Jaune humming. "I've never liked that. It sounds too creepy."

"Yeah. It's waaay too intrusive," he said. "It's almost as bad as the idea where you're lying in bed, trying to just get comfy and go to sleep, and you get the feeling that someone's looking at you from outside your window—"

One hand reached out to his shoulder and pinched him quickly, making him yelp. "Jaune, shut up."

She needn't say that she bloody hated the idea he'd just put in her head, feeling those chills go down her arms. Just imagining her family home back on Menagerie, and her in bed as a kid, albeit with the image of some creepy bastard sitting outside staring through her window…

Nope. Nope nope nope, she ain't dealing with that.

Returning to the story, it seemed that the surgeries were finally done. The remaining captives immediately asked for the stimulant gas, and the researchers asked them all sorts of things; why they had hurt themselves. Why they went so far to tear their own innards out. Why they wanted the gas so badly.

'I must remain awake.'

Afterwards, the three of them were moved to temporary areas, the researchers awaiting further instructions on how to deal with them. She would have questioned the fact that they were being cowled by a couple of test subjects, but wariness was necessary, what with their earlier demonstrations of force that had killed and brutally injured a couple of armed soldiers.

That, and the fact that they were likely terrified out of their goddamned minds. Blake felt like they could be forgiven there.

Things went from bad to worse when the researchers had to deal with their military benefactors, supposedly unsatisfied with the failure of the project to meet their stated goals—whatever the hell those were—and were considering euthanizing the surviving subjects. She wanted that to be it.

Unfortunately, the commanding officer didn't see eye-to-eye with them. Instead, what he saw was potential; a possibility of something fascinating, or something worse. He wanted them to get the gas back on.

"Bastard..!" She hissed, clutching her scroll a little tightly. "What is wrong with you..?! Just put them out already! Can't he see what they're working with?"

"He's likely a war veteran. In war, you see a whole lot worse. This? This might not be the worst. You always see the worst of humans—and death—in war."

Her eyes glanced to the side, inwardly surprised by the lack of expression on Jaune's face when he said that. She swallowed a lump, feeling both uneasy from this story and his complete nonchalance.

Deep down, however, she knew he was right. In war, people were practically blown to bits from gunfire and bombs. Most times, people would just be lucky to get away with a couple of bullet holes in the chest. She didn't want to know how much worse it could have possibly been.

Preparations to have them moved back into the chambers took a while. The subjects were hooked up to something called 'EEG' (Jaune said it was an electroencephalogram. What a big word, and an even bigger surprise that Jaune knew what it was) to monitor them while they were restrained. It was basically a tool used to keep track of an individual's brain activity via the use of electrical nodes and the like. A necessity, considering the abnormality behind the three's health conditions. Careful observations were needed in case immediate intervention was needed.

It was clear to the researchers, and Blake at this point, that the three captives were doing everything they could to stay awake. One of the subjects was humming loudly and continuously, while the mute one was straining his legs against the leather bonds with all his might, first left, then right, then left again for something to focus on. The remaining subject was blinking rapidly, quite literally trying to blink the sleep away.

Now, Blake wasn't an expert on how EEGs worked. Hell, she didn't even know what they were, so she'd definitely be doing some further reading after this. But what her mind's eye could see were two rooms; one where the subjects were kept captive, while the researchers observed them from a safe room, perhaps behind a glass wall of sorts with machinery of all kinds. It was the kind of scene you'd really see in a movie, and that which she imagines is made only possible with a large budget.

Apparently, the researchers were intrigued by whatever the results they were getting; their brainwaves were seemingly normal, but at times would flatline instantaneously—noted as if they'd just experienced brain death—before returning to normal. That certainly wasn't normal, but at this point, their descent into the realm of insanity had already begun too long ago.

Blake's head shifted, just as a nurse's did—in her imagined world, both of them saw, for just the briefest of moments, one of the man's head tilt their way. His lips moved, as if trying to form a sentence, though there was nothing he could have possibly said.

And she watched, with rapt attention as his eyes fell shut the moment his head hit the pillow, an exhale through his lips that was so soft, she couldn't hear whatsoever.

Beeeeeeeep…

It was a snap of the thread. The sole survivor who could still articulate watched his fellow die, and began screaming like a banshee, thrashing in his restraints to be sealed once more. The researchers trembled, unsure of what to do. She herself was struggling to determine what was the right choice in this moment.

'Seal them away!' The commander yelled in her mind. 'Put both of them inside—' And then, his gaze shifted to the researchers, and she felt herself freeze up. '—and the three of you, go in there with them! This is a necessary study for the sake of science! We can..!'

'To hell with your shit!'

A gunshot echoed, making her flinch. She recognized that, physically, she was still sitting in the library. But her mind had pulled her into that horrible research facility, staring down the commander who'd just been shot between the eyes. They rolled back into his skull as he slumped over, blood oozing out of his new wounds and staining the wall behind him a dark red.

The researcher who'd pulled the trigger screamed, as did the others, but he didn't stop there. Wrought with grief, paranoia, fear, disbelief—he turned his gun on the mute subject. Not a shred of hesitation.

Bang!

He pointed his gun at the remaining subject, still restrained to his bed. His fellow bled out from his blown-out brains, while the other researchers fled the scene.

Blake stood there, trembling and frozen to her spot in her white lab coat, as she watched the scientist speak to the… 'Like hell I'll be locked in here with these things! Not with you!' He screamed, almost crying. 'What the hell are you?! Tell me, damn it!'

The… The monster stared at him.

And it smiled.

'Have you forgotten so easily?' The voice was so distorted. So utterly inhuman. 'We are you. We are the madness that lurks within you all… the you deep down who demands to run free whenever you wish. We are what you hide from in your blissful sleep every single night. We are what you sedate into silence and paralysis when you go to the nocturnal haven where we cannot tread.'

The monster laughed. The scientist's grip over his gun shook, and Blake felt like tears were coming to her eyes from how much emotion was overcoming her in that moment.

'Pray that your heart finds the rest it so wishes… Or perhaps, I will see you again, in hell. Gahaa̸̮͝h̵̹̖̾Ȟ̸̪͛Ã̷̺̹Ḧ̷̢͖͚́̏̋̑͜A̶̱͙̮̗͠͠Ḩ̸̹̗̰̠̝͇̟̭̖̜͍͊̈́̓̆̀͂̀͂͝͠A̵̦͙̝̖̝̓͆̇͂̅̅̾ͅH̵̻̬̣̰̰̱̭̼̳͇͖͉̓̎́̌̄̎͐̓͋A̶̳̪̭̮̅͊̑͑̋̒̏̅̓̇͒̏͗̈́̔Ḩ̷̛͚̋̂͐́̈́̈́̏̈̉̀͆̄͠A̶̧̞̙̤̪͇̼̝͚͍̰͔̅!'

That was too much. Screwing his eyes shut, the man pulled the trigger, right into the creature's heart. It gasped, the EEG flatlining as its eyes, devoid of colour, slowly lost focus.

'S̴̮̐ó̵ͅ.̵͙̀.̸̫͌.̸̝͝ ̶̤̆n̴̽ͅe̷̖̋a̸͇͊r̶͚̂l̵̞̀y̸̻̍.̸̱̍.̷̖͛.̵̯̚ ̷̀ͅf̶̪͝r̴̦̆e̵͕̕ẻ̵̹.̵̢͂.̵̘͑.̶̒͜

The world was blinded in light—


And once more, her senses returned to Remnant, her eyes blinking to take in the normalcy of her environment; a secluded spot in Beacon's library, where she was seated at a table with her blond friend from their sister team.

Jaune blinked, staring at her as if she'd grown a second head. "Um. You good?"

"That was…" At a lost for words, she rubbed her face. "Horrible… I did not expect it to take the direction it did…"

"I know, right?!" In contrast to her, Jaune looked excited. She gawked back. "I mean, it's just so good! Well, sure, it's a short story and really old, but like… the impact! The surrealness of it all! It's bone-chilling, down to the very last…" He sighed, dreamily. "It's such a good story…"

Did he… No, he couldn't be. But he was; he actually loved it.

Urgh. Jaune really is a nut for horror stuff, then. Not like she had any place to comment, but for him to have somehow found some amount of enjoyment from something as grim and depressing as this one… Well, there were people of all kinds, and he just happened to fulfill this sort of niche.

Still, she mused to herself, that was… admittedly really good, for a first horror story. It was nothing but words, but it helped (read as: sucked) that her mind was capable of imagining the tense scenes and imagery in this story.

This was a part of the psychology that she'd never thought she'd end up studying; horror and its deeply personal interaction with one's psyche. It left a greater impression than stuff of romance and comedy typically would, likely attributed to the fact that it's considered a 'negative' emotion, not dissimilar to how sad dramas can be incredibly impactful on people.

Putting away her scroll, she sighed, happy to be back in the real world. "It… was really good," she couldn't believe herself saying that, but the look of genuine happiness on his face made it hard to retract her words. "You were right. I'm an overimaginative sort, so everything came naturally to me. It was really good, but awful."

"Sentiment shared," he grinned. "Too many modern horror mediums like videogames and movies make use of cheap jump scares. Real horror should seep into your bones, leave you feeling paranoid and with nightmares in your sleep…"

"Oh, my sleep is going to be anything but peaceful tonight, that's for sure…"

"Yeah… Oh, right. You know how the blog website has several other tabs?" He gestured to her scroll. "If you have the time, check out 'Others'. There's a voice-over, albeit with its own script, to illustrate the situation. It's based off of one of the researchers' experience, so you can treat it like a journal of sorts."

Blake stared at her scroll, then stared at Jaune. "And why would I put myself through something like this?"

"In case you're curious?" He shrugged so casually. "Also, there are pictures there, illustrating the guy after he ruined himself, plus some other stuff. It'll really add to the immersion, so—" He paused when his scroll on the table vibrated. He checked the notifications, chuckling after. "Looks like I've gotta' go. Nora's calling for a team hangout tonight, though I doubt we'll last that long. Pro'lly just eat some snacks together."

"That so, eh? Not too different from our team. The number of 'sleepovers' Yang and Ruby want to do in our own room."

"Hah! That's just how they are, I guess," laughing gently, he grabbed all his stuff and put them away. "Anyways, I'll see you next time, Blake. This was fun."

"I… Yeah, it was," and who would have thought that she'd actually enjoy that? Crazy. "See you later, Jaune."

"Mmhm. Have a good evening!"

Afterwards, Jaune took his leave, while Blake just took the time to relax herself. It was certainly nerve-racking at times, and the relief of just having it finally be done and dealt with was a good feeling all in itself.

Now, would she willingly read more messed up stuff like that? No, likely not. The amount of body horror was not her biggest cup of tea, and the fact that there would be drawings of that? Yeah, hard pass.

…But she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious. Jaune had her to rights there. There was still time before she had to head back to her room, so maybe a couple more minutes indulging her curiosity would be fine. There was no way any of it could possibly be worse. Right?

After almost twenty minutes of pure agony, surrealistic voice acting and sound effects, coupled with the images that had to have come out of the depths of hell, Blake went to bed a restless and unhappy cat. None of Team RWBY would have known what happened, and she was sure to take that secret to the grave.


Author's Notes:

Some changes to this chapter, in that I altered the name of the story and a bit of the setting of the short story, as I will do for the other two chapters after this one.

In case anyone missed the author's notes in a different chapter, I'm basically making some light changes to the story to make them more in-line with Remnant's lore and the like. Essentially, like in the prologue, how I changed The Charge of the Light Brigade to The Charge of the Blue-blooded. So I'll alter them to feel more Remnant-like.

In any case, this is the Russian Sleep Experiment; a popular horror story here on the Internet that I never got to read as a kid, but having discovered it a little later down the line? Damn, was it bone-chilling to imagine, and certainly goes to show how it's managed to become a mainstay in modern creepypasta.

Anyone who hasn't read that are missing out on one of the best forms of online horror stories, and should definitely give it a read. And it's got a pic of a horrifying dude. Dang.