Warning: This chapter contains disturbing imagery and scenarios. If you're sensitive to topics such as implied and prominent abuse, as well as darker subject matter, feel free to abandon this story, or simply skip this chapter. More will be explained at the bottom of the chapter.

...

Blake was under the belief that tonight would be a fairly relaxing and suitably boring night, as in, one where she could just bunker down and read. Currently, she was enjoying a few chapters of Ninja's of Love: one of her favorite series of romantic dramas. At the moment she was doing her best to keep up with the current situation in the plot, which in her honest opinion was fairly difficult.

'Seething in the heat of their union, she arched her back low, and allowed her body to be pressed firmly against the dirt. The sturdy grip of his weighed down on her head, forcing her face into the muddy mash of the forest earth. Why she'd caved in such a filthy place was unknown, as the scents of sweat dripping and mixing with the very muck tickling the lowly swinging tips of her hanging breasts was thrilling.'

Needless to say, Blake was immersed. What should have been a simple spying assignment quickly became heated when the main heroine took a dive. Unfortunately for her, one of the branches she'd stood on was weak and it snapped before she could move, sending her down into the river below. With one of the guardsmen above the water already on the lookout for an intruder, the woman opted to take drastic measures.

Claiming to be a forest spirit was one thing, but offering a 'garden' for the man's seed was another. Blake recalled reading this section once already, feeling both disgusted and aroused as the scene played out. After this, she knew the woman would pull his tired form over to the water, where she would proceed to drown him, and attempt to wash out her... yeah, Blake probably wouldn't be convincing anyone anytime soon that she cared much for the particular 'plot' in this section of the book, but unknown to all - except her own mother, but that's a different and more embarrassing story - she had a thing for 'roughing it' in the wild.

This had nothing to do with her being a faunus, it was merely one of her many kinks she kept hidden out of modern day life. However her personal enjoyment of the book was cut short when the door to their room opened, and Blake let the book settle on her chest as she peered above, seeing a strangely angry looking Yang walk in with a sheepish Ruby.

"Finally back?" Weiss called, twisting from her chair and staring at the duo. Ruby offered a slight wave, still appearing less than happy with whatever it was she was feeling, whereas Yang just ignored the heiress and made for her bed, flopping on it.

Weiss Schnee: heiress to the Schnee Dust Company. When they first met, Blake hadn't been impressed; Weiss to her had been as spoiled of a brat as she'd expected, and so she'd quickly written the woman off as 'another Schnee'. However, something curious that came about from sharing a room with the Schnee was her work ethic. Speaking truthfully, Weiss was a very, very hard worker, which had been a surprise. Blake fully expected Weiss to be a pompous lazy sort of rich girl, and yet said 'rich girl' dedicated herself to her studies in such a way that would make even scholars blush.

Pair that with how disgusted she seemed at Cardin's bullying of Velvet and his general treatment of faunus, and you have a strange mix of pleasantries. To her credit, Weiss didn't look like she approved of the mistreatment of faunus, which went against everything Blake had been told about the Schnee family.

Although the brazen tone of voice was still what she expected.

"And just what took you so long?" Weiss crossed her arms, shooting looks between both sisters, with her eyes firstly settling on Yang. "That should have taken you only an hour; two at best, and yet you were gone for three and a half." Her eyes shot over to Ruby. "And you still have homework to take care of. Now come on: we're off to the library to get it done."

Ruby was grabbed by the hand and dragged out into the hallway faster than Blake could reasonably account for. This left the romance enjoyer alone with the blond, who was now grumbling face down in her pillow. Part of Blake knew it was none of her business, but she couldn't help but delve into what was potentially trouble, especially if it involved her teammate.

"Did something happen?" Trying that at first, Blake was fully prepared to be written off, and yet was a little caught off guard when that didn't happen.

"Ruby's just being Ruby again; too forgiving on those who don't deserve it."

"How so?" Again, this wasn't any of Blake's business, but now the fires of her curiosity were sparked, and apparently Yang was in the rare mood to indulge without the usual humor or redirection.

"Some creep was trying to move on her, and she keeps saying he probably didn't mean too." Yang seemed to growl with every word, even if most of it was muffled from beneath the pillow.

"And you watched it happen?"

"Not entirely no, but I saw enough."

"Well... maybe you're just missing some context?" Blake could see where this was going; novels tended to adore using the classic 'misunderstanding' trope, although she never expected to see it in real life. "Perhaps the whole situation isn't so bad."

As Yang's face lifted off the pillow to look at her, Blake stilted a bit as she was greeted with the plain face beneath, restraining a hidden ire only befitting of the foulest deeds.

"He was groping her chest; in what context is that ever justified."

Okay, so that was a little damning, but even so Blake tried to stick a few points up for Ruby.

"Maybe it was a misunderstanding?" Yep, classic trope it is, and now she herself was giving in. Still though, groping: there weren't a lot of ways to justify that unless the woman consented beforehand. The problem was however...

Ruby was a fifteen year old girl.

"Just as naïve as her." Yang sighed, falling back on her pillow. "That's what they always say. They claim it's just an accident, and then you forgive them; benefit of the doubt and all that stuff. Soon you're talking, you think they're cool, and you become friends for a little while. They invite you out; you go; have a few too many drinks even though you're too young, and wake up alone. You're in a place you don't know, on a street you can't recognise; alone naked in a bed with your clothes scattered all over the floor, and with that nice older guy nowhere to be found." Yang waved her hand lazily in the air. "Do you see what I'm getting at?"

"I do."

That... was a lot to unpack. A little overly long, but detailed to a particular point which beckoned Blake's thoughts. Yang wasn't speaking about the general worries and cautions of how these people might attempt their crimes; no, Yang was giving a detailed and point by point telling of events about how one specific scenario would go down, and it was here something clicked for Blake.

Perhaps Yang wasn't talking solely from a position of overly cautious worry, maybe...

No.

Blake shook her head, foregoing the idea. It wasn't her place to pry, let alone make guesses as to what type of life her new team member had lived. Yet, even as she decided this, the questions remained. However, Yang would speak about it when she felt like it, and no matter how curious Blake herself was, she wasn't about to potentially sully her newly forming team bond over a personal matter like that. It wasn't her place, nor right, to question Yang.

"Alright, I understand." Blake saw Yang twist over: now lying on her back and looking towards her. The local cat-girl wasn't finished however, and she twisted her head a little, making herself more comfortable on the bed before speaking up. "But Ruby doesn't. Yeah, the guy was probably a creep, but the least we can do is hear her out: see how she views things. We don't have to agree with her, but it might make her feel a little better."

"If there's one thing I know about my sister, it's that she's far too forgiving." Yang allowed her tone to drop, and Blake had to restrain the nearly instinctual twitch of her ears, otherwise the bow on her head would move, outing her. The way Yang's eyes seemed to fade over had the girl intrigued. "I mean, I wanted her to stick out on her own, get a grasp on people and how to make friends, but not like this."

"In my personal opinion: It sounds like you're selling your sister a little short." It was here Blake saw some of the life return to her partner's gaze. "I'll admit, she seemed a little childish when we first met, but there's also something else about her that seems a little more attentive than I've seen from other students. I can't quite explain it, but I'm pretty sure the headmaster saw it too, which is why I believe he made her our team leader."

"Yeah... you're probably right." Yang looked to grumble uncomfortably. "But still: I don't want her to ever have to go through anything like that."

"And she won't." Blake set her book down to the side. "We'll keep her safe; we're a team, remember?"

"We are."

There was a slight pause afterwards, and Blake - upon seeing how Yang started to drift off in thought - chose to break it.

"Is there anything else you want to talk about?"

"No, not right now." Slowly, Yang leaned over, stepping off the bed and stretching. "Besides, we should put your idea to work and go find my sis; It can't hurt to see what she was thinking back there."

"Sure." Standing as well, Blake offered a soft smile. "Let's go."

.

.

"Not too bad, is it?" Miltia bore a sassy smirk the whole walk so far, and honestly, with her current skills he couldn't really hold it against her. The woman was as deadly as he'd imagined, practically leaving the last two guys they met broken and battered, with the third handing over the money while trembling.

"I... I guess not." Jay wasn't exactly comfortable with collecting 'debts' due to it making him feel like a crook; then again, when working with Junior and the club, what better title was there.

"Lighten up a little." She leaned in, throwing her arms around him and startling the guy. She leaned close, speaking sweetly with her lips so deviously close to his ear. "Just play along like a good little boy; nothing more, nothing less."

"I-I-"

"And ease off the stutter; it really kills any threats you could pose." But therein lay the problem: he wasn't a threat. Yeah, maybe if he unlocked his aura he might stand a chance, but he wasn't about to ask one of Junior's people to do it: the man would see it as a favor and want it paid back. Sure, Jay knew he was in with the group now, but he wanted to keep himself as distanced as possible in case he needed to escape fast.

"I... don't know how to fight though."

"Then don't fight." She backed away chuckling, and Jay couldn't tell if she was making fun of him, or worse. Once the humor settled, she laid her hands on her hips, pumping a bit more spice into her walk. "Just look calm and collected: people will assume you're capable if you do. After all, you must be dangerous if you don't even flinch when surrounded by enemies."

"I suppose that could work." Jay was conflicted now; he'd never been one for deception, usually unable to muster the courage to even try, and yet it appeared he didn't have a choice.

"It will, trust me." Picking up the pace and passing him, Miltia spoke. "Now come on, we have one last set to collect.

Maybe she's right. Then again, did it even matter? What was he scared of anyway, dying? As if; death never scared him, quite the opposite actually. What use was there in living a life you hated? Going through failure after failure, tedium upon tedium on a daily basis. Why should anybody subject themselves to a bitter fight just to keep up with everything, all over a life you don't even like? Jay had been ready to end it all multiple times each week, and yet he never went through with it. Why? Well, it was because Jay still has his buddy, Rex, who despite his often rowdy nature managed to keep Jay alive through sheer presence alone. It was here where Jay first realized the anchor which kept him from drifting off.

He wasn't scared by death, but rather by disappointing those close to him.

RWBY: it was a show he'd once loved, back when he was still hopeful of the future. Watching it fall off; watching it fail; it paralleled his own life to a T. Jay hated it, he hated it so damn much that he could barely restrain the misplaced anger generated from the topic. RWBY was supposed to be a fun ride though and through, a simple story of cute girls living their dreams of being heroes. It never had to be perfect, it just had to be enjoyable, and yet Jay found himself unable to have fun with it anymore; disappointment after disappointment had eroded away any sense of slack he could give it.

He wasn't a writer, so he couldn't tell when something was really good or bad writing, but he knew when he didn't like something. All the characters had fallen off for him, and on a personal note, it was ironically due to their sense of justice. Justice was malleable, and yet they treated it like a coin flip, completely disregarding the fact that coins have an edge - a slim, but noticeable edge; even then it was a poor idea. Justice was more akin to a puddle, fluctuating in size depending on a multitude of factors.

Jay faced justice before, everyone else's justice that was. It was so incredibly easy to blame someone else, to point and yell; much easier than it was to listen, or even to consider. All it ever took was being in the wrong place at the wrong time, just looking a little bit suspicious, and if you should happen to clam up out of shock, heavens help you.

And here he was now, most certainly in the wrong place, with nothing available to him but time.

"Alright now." Miltia leaned in again. "Remember: look tough." She then pointed towards one of the many doors along the streets; various different homes on this rundown side of town. "Just walk up and knock. Once they open the door, say 'Junior's calling' and nothing else; they'll understand, and hopefully, fork over the cash without a fight."

"That... sounds a little too good to be true." Nothing was ever that easy, and yet for some reason, this particular idea felt... bad, like, really really bad. Looking up to the door again filled Jay with this unknown sense of terror, an unfathomable ripple of sloshy waves underneath his skin nearly boiled as the essence of worry bubbled to the surface.

This wasn't normal, not even the slightest bit.

"Junior is known for being patient, but this bloke has already tested his patience before; he knows not to try and push it any further. Poker face: remember?" Miltia seemed so confident, and yet that smile...

Jay did his best to push away the underlying panic in his stomach as he climbed the short set of steps, but for every one he took, that horror grew tenfold. Where had this sudden ringing of cowardice come from? He hadn't felt so helpless even when Yang was threatening him, but to be fair, he hadn't fully understood what was going on back then; hell, he still didn't get what was happening, but at least he had something to do. Strumming up whatever courage he could, he offered a couple knocks.

Wood shattered and split as a blade ripped through the door and his chest, piercing his heart.

Jay leapt back, falling on the pavement and heaving. His hand immediately flew to the wound, only for him to realize it wasn't there. Shooting his eyes to the door, he saw that it too was unscathed. The wood remained slightly rotted, and yet no punctures could be seen. In the split second of his adrenaline high, he caught a glimpse of Miltia's head turning. It was so sluggish... no, that wasn't right. His mind was pumped into overdrive, so everything only seemed to be slowed down, when in reality he was just amidst a panic.

I-I felt it!

Not only did he feel the blade ripping through his skin, splitting his ribs and puncturing his heart, but he also felt the stopping of his breath, with that vile inability to breath being akin to drowning; desperately sucking in air that wouldn't come - breathing in, and yet not feeling the relief of that breath as the smothering continued. Yet he wasn't dead, and it was this small fact that eased off the rush, allowing the world to resume its usual pace. Miltia came back to speed, with her first words being an understandable concern.

"What's wro-"

She never got to finish the sentence before it happened. Perfectly, the tip of a sword ripped through the door, right where Jay had been standing only seconds ago. Perhaps he should have stayed put, because seeing it play out before him had his heart stopping. Unfortunately for him this feeling was just that, a feeling, and he was still shockingly alive. He should have died, and yet here he was, alive due to that sudden scene of panic.

The sword retreated inside, and the door shot off its hinges, landing with a clack in the middle of the road behind them. A burly, filthy looking man stepped out of the walkway and started down the steps, still clutching the blade that should have taken Jay's life.

"So he finally manned up and sent his bitches after me, eh?" The guttural chuckle fluttering from his coarse worn lips made Jay's blood run cold. "Two cuties ripe for the picking. So, seeing as you're here, he either thinks you can beat me, or he's making an offering to lull me into his little schemes; which is it darlings~"

Jay might have pissed himself if he had anything to drink earlier, but fortunately he was running on empty. Miltia was in a much better state by comparison, simply straightening her stance and huffing.

"You know what? Boss only wanted us to collect what he was owed, but seeing as you're clearly not one to play nice, I think we're gonna take a little extra."

"You're taking a bit more huh?" This was followed up yet again by that disgusting laugh. "Yes... you'll fit nicely into my collection; I think I'm gonna enjoy you~ Here." He tossed something into the air, and for the first time since they met each other, Jay saw Miltia drop her smile. "Catch."

Miltia turned to him, and he saw the stress on her face.

"Shit! Get out-"

It didn't matter, as the very second she began to speak, the man slashed at the silver crystal, and a bright light enveloped everything. It took a second, but eventually the light faded, leaving Jay to realize he was all alone.

Wrapping Dust? I thought those were only in Vacuo?

Apparently he'd been wrong, but that still didn't make much sense. Nearing the end of the Vacuo arc of RWBY, the concept of teleportation was touched upon via Wrapping Dust: a mixture capable of remembering a specific place on Remnant and transporting humans and faunus to said place once activated. Naturally, this struck up the question as to why it wasn't so widespread, with the excuse being that it was so expensive and difficult to produce that it was downright impractical for everyday travel.

Not exactly the greatest of reasons, but it was passable.

Wrapping Dust was exclusive to Vacuo in the show, with it only being used twice: once for a mob boss to escape the 'sidekicks' of team RWBY that season, and once near the end where the girls used it to get themselves out of trouble - yet again proving the new idea was only intended as a 'deus ex machina' for later. At the very least it was built up beforehand, so it didn't fall as hard as the relic of creation had, but still.

The fact that the guy had Wrapping Dust told Jay two things: One; he had a vast expanse of money to burn, and two; based on his manner of speaking he'd pretty much confirmed what sort of 'business' he ran to obtain such amounts of cash. Immediately Jay began to worry for Miltia. While faunus trafficking had been brought up in RWBY lore once before, nothing was mentioned about the human equivalent, but if it was anything like the real world then it was most certainly just as prominent.

Miltia was strong though, so she could take that guy down... right?

Jay stood, gritting his teeth as he shook. No, it wouldn't be that easy; this guy spoke like he'd played out this song and dance before time and time again. The fact he brushed them both off, even mentioning how Junior might have believed them a match for him showed Jay that this guy had faced huntresses before - implying he'd won. These concerns were major, but they didn't tackle the other concern on the boy's mind.

Why wasn't I taken?

Wrapping Dust didn't discriminate as far as he recalled: it took all humans and faunus within its perimeter to the predefined location it was linked to, regardless of whether they had aura or not. For all intents and purposes, Jay should have been whisked away as well; he'd been just as close to the criminal as Miltia herself.

But no, Jay was left all alone on the street, staring at the open door before him.

Part of him knew he should have ran back to the club and got Junior, but he didn't know the way, and going door to door asking random people about a shady club probably wouldn't yield many results. Seeing as he had no other ideas, and wasn't about to waste time getting lost trying to find the club again, Jay began a cautious trek up the stairs and into the home.

The creep seemed to live here, based solely on the fact Miltia knew where to find him, so if there was any chance, he might have left a clue as to where his Wrapping Dust lead to.

Upon stepping inside, Jay found he had trouble seeing in the darkness, and so fumbled around with the walls in an attempt to find a light switch. With a click the room lit up, and Jay had to shut his eyes at the sudden change of brightness. It was accidental, but it worked, so he wasn't complaining. The area was just as rundown as it looked on the outside, with collections of mold and muck growing in every visible crevice.

It was disgusting, but Jay didn't have time to complain, and made his way in.

The hallway had a set of stairs to the right, but he ignored it in favor of the opening on the left which led him into a kitchen. Strangely enough, it wasn't as dirty as the rest of the building, and Jay was even able to make out how the counter had recently been cleaned. He took a step inside, before stopping as a faint splash echoed out. Looking down he saw the puddle of water slightly covering the earthly wooden floor.

Hold on...

Something wasn't right. With water it usually just distorted the surface below, however this puddle seemed to tint the floor a little darker. With this understanding in his head, and far too strong a curiosity, he reached down and touched it. The water was warm; room temperature even. However, as he pulled away, Jay saw how it painted his fingertips red.

In fiction it was easy to look at blood and write it off. Whether it be a small drop or a fountain, you could usually just ignore it if you chose. Seeing and feeling blood up close however provided a more... disturbing experience. Jay did everything in his power to prevent that light-headed feeling from totally enveloping his body, fighting off the urge to expel the non-existent contents of his stomach through sheer mental fortitude alone.

He stood rigid, with his eyes trailing towards what he'd believed to be the clean fridge, and he saw how the blood stopped just before it.

He didn't need to be an expert to know what was probably inside the fridge, but he was already in the house; stopping now wasn't an option. With any luck, aside from a severed head or some other 'prepared' body part, he might find something that told him where the bastard might have taken Miltia too. She'd been kind to him so far, too kind even, and Jay was thankful for that. Even if he failed, even if he wasn't strong enough, he had to at least try to help her.

Monsters like this were usually egotistical, both in the real world and fiction; whatever 'meal' laid inside had to have a calling card or something. It was a stupid idea, yes, but it was the only thing on Jay's mind right now. Perhaps there was a computer or scroll or whatever nearby containing information, but Jay was drawn to the fridge, almost hauntingly so.

Something was pushing him to look inside, and so he did.

Pulling open the door, Jay was hit with a wave of cold. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, in fact, it only looked to contain a few packs of beer. He didn't recognise the brand, but it was labeled as 7% alcohol, so it was a liquor of some kind. This should have offered some relief for the boy, but something told him to press on, and that there was more to be found. Villains always kept secrets in the most innocuous of places, and so Jay shifted the contents of the fridge around in search of anything out of the ordinary.

Maybe the 'meal' was hidden deeper in.

He didn't find any 'meals' per say, but he did come across what seemed to be a strange latch. It was nearest the edge of the top shelf, right against where the door would connect to close. Jay found it easy to unclick the latch... and then he saw another one, and another one, and soon enough he undid them all. Immediately after, he felt a wave of cold hit him, and that he could push the inside of the fridge itself. The whole damn thing was like a fake panel on a closet, and forcing it back revealed the true contents.

Jay stepped inside, feeling himself shiver, from both cold and revulsion.

He realized now how the man obtained all his money. It had nothing to do with human trafficking like he'd previously believed. No, the money was simply taken from his previous victims, and it was after looking around the inside of the freezer he now found himself in that Jay started dry-heaving: coughing up nothing but his own abhorrence at what laid before him.

Some were full, with nothing but the midsection bisected to remove the internal organs. Others had their meat 'harvested' from along the arms and legs, leaving visible bone in portions along the butchered corpses. Most were relatively youthful, with a few elderly ones scattered around on the racks and hooks. Both humans and faunus were represented, all of different appearances and sizes, and yet for all these various traits, they all shared one single relation.

All of them were women.

RWBY never dared to delve into darker aspects such as body horror, with the closest to the horror genre ever tackled being the Apathy. This was something Jay never believed he'd see in the series, but then again, this wasn't fiction anymore: this was his new reality. There had been news reports and documentaries of cannibal serial killers in the real world, and they had gone to these levels of extremity before, however such evils were scarce, even in parts of the world often dubbed as more 'regressive'.

And yet Jay stood front and center before it, able to see the results of one of said monsters in person.

His tears froze to his cheek, and he could feel parts of his exposed skin go numb, both from shock and the cold. Some of the women still retained their heads, and he was certain those lifeless frozen orbs would haunt him for the rest of his life. However that wasn't all, as a loud clang drew his eyes forward and towards the direct path ahead. Jay considered just ignoring it, laying down on the floor, and curling up until he froze to death, however the image of Miltia facing such a fate was enough to bring him to his feet.

He'd just met her, but even in that short moment of companionship, he couldn't stand the idea of her getting hurt.

In the main series the twins had disappeared completely at a certain point after the Beacon arc, and Jay was now fearing that something like 'this' may have been the reason why. She was nice to him, and while it might have just been due to Junior finding a use for him, Jay wanted to delude himself into thinking she actually cared. He was being clingy again, but that didn't matter, his own life didn't matter.

Miltia mattered though, and he'd gladly die if it meant even giving her a chance to live.

Walking through and pushing past the dead, Jay felt his body numb further and further, unable to tell if it was at the hands of the cold, or the victims he brushed out of the way. One thing he did do aside from pushing past was pull a large butcher's knife from the lower abdomen of one faunus corpse. No blood came, but for a brief second Jay was able to see the intestines still inside through the slit; the murderer hadn't yet cleaned out this one, which led him to believe she was new.

Once upon a time, Jay held an infatuation with body horror, to the point he began to wonder if he was just as bad as the monster here; his own disgust and sorrow at the sight was enough to prove to himself he wasn't like that.

Was it insensitive to look at the dead and only think of the positives it means for you? Yes, but right now Jay needed every scrap of courage he could muster. He needed every advantage he could get in order to even take a single step forward. He wasn't religious, and he knew the Brother Gods of Remnant weren't exactly 'just', but even so he offered up a tiny wish: a little prayer that they'd be merciful towards the tormented souls of the dead strung up in this hell house.

Another sound whispered out; not just a clang, but a voice as well, and it was here Jay found a clearing in the butchered.

A heavy looking steel door sat prominently on the wall, and yet again Jay heard the sounds; this time able to make out grunts and swears beyond. It sounded like a fight, and the moment he recognised Miltia's voice in a cry, his instincts shot him forwards towards the lifeless blockade.

The door came easy, and Jay laid eyes on both Miltia and the bastard at a standstill. The woman seemed shocked he was even here, but that didn't matter to Jay: his legs carried him regardless.

"Oh ho ho! So you've found me." The demon's smile twisted upwards; cruelty incarnate. Had Jay been paying attention, he'd have seen how Miltia could barely stand, and how the prick he was charging towards hadn't even broken a sweat. "A runner eh? Come on then skipper: PLAY WITH ME!

"Jay, don't!" Miltia yelled in desperation, trying to stand, only to drop on her knees again. In a bout of panic she cried out. "His semblance reflects damage, and his aura is triple that of mine!"

Jay kept running, again thinking of nothing but the man ahead, of doing even the slightest bit of chip damage. The vile thing saw how he kept running along, and spread its arms wide.

"You want a hug? THEN COME AND GET IT!"

With not even a cry, Jay shot forth, stabbing directly below the ribs. Aura would prevent all damage, and with such a small weapon it would surely bounce off with an innocent clink. He would smirk, grab the adorable little thing by its arms, and have his fun while ripping them off - he could barely wait. So it was, that when the knife dug into his flesh, and when the pain erupted to life as the little thing was dragged downwards slicing open the stomach...

It screeched.

Jay didn't care what he was doing; his panic was so intense he hadn't seen how the knife ripped through the skin, ignoring the aura of the man which flickered around him uselessly. Jay just kept pulling, and pulling, and once he believed him low enough, tore the edge across to the left, pulling it in close and standing still afterwards; ready for the death inevitably awaiting him. When said death never came however, Jay eased off his rush just enough to properly see again, and he looked up at the man.

The waste of flab coughed, with his stomach spit open enough that some of his burning hot insides began to slip free, spattering on the floor at his feet.

Jay saw then how it looked down at him, stuttering in movement and breath, desperately trying to find the strength in its arms to grab him. One of said sudden twitches clenched the wound across its stomach, which for some reason refused to heal, and a small spurt of blood hit the boy's cheek, slowly dribbling down to the chin and dripping onto the growing puddle of fluid on the floor. The demonic collection of mass finally collapsed with one last cough, and Jay was left standing there in silence.

Miltia watched this all from the side, stunned and unable to move... that was, until she saw her newest partner take a couple steps back and drop to his knees, clutching himself tightly. In that instant Miltia didn't see the guy who'd just ripped a knife through someone's aura, no, she saw a black-haired little boy sitting by a tree, crying softly.

She was losing herself in the past again.

Shaking herself from that state, the woman stood and approached. Miltia heard it then, the small stuttered weeping, and the occasional hiccup. While the room she was in wasn't as gore-filled as the freezer Jay walked through, there was still a fresh corpse hung on the wall, so when she turned her head to the door now opened and saw the dead beyond, she wasn't hit as hard. Turning her gaze back, Miltia spit on the dead man laying in his own blood.

You're lucky it wasn't me, you degenerate fuck.

He died via a single knife wound, which was nothing compared to his victims. She'd heard of women disappearing over the past few months, but ultimately paid it no mind. To now know the bastard had been hiding under their noses was…

To put it lightly: it made her sick.

She turned her mind away from that though, and slowly kneeled down before the boy. His eyes were covered over and glassy, and seeing as he was shy around everyone so far she assumed he'd never had to face anything like this before; the complete opposite of Melanie and herself. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around him, bringing the boy into what she hoped was a calm embrace, and it was here the differences between the child in her mind and the guy in her arms began to blur.

Brother's help me, it's happening again.

Author's note

...

Okay, so that was excessive.

First of all: no, this won't turn into a complete horror story. This is a character drama/partial mystery first and foremost, so don't misunderstand. There will be elements of horror every now and then - rarely - but it will never go to the extremes seen in this chapter.

This right here is the farthest I will go for Untouchable in terms of general cruelty; the rest will never go beyond this - maybe it will once more reach this level, but never further, and not often either. Usually I like to do a general buildup of these things, however with the quick pace of this story I felt like getting the worst of it out of the way fast - to show you that these elements have the possibility of showing up.

This chapter did contain some important information, but that's info that will show up later anyways, so if you want to skip this one, you can. If you feel like this is too much to handle, you're free to drop it too; I don't judge - some things just aren't right for certain people, and that's okay.

Fair warning, I won't be adding warnings at the top anymore, so let that factor into your decision to keep reading.

Also, I apologize for this chapter taking so long; I was caught up with some things in real life. For those of you who choose to stick around, know that if you can handle this, you can handle anything else that this story has to throw your way.

Whether you love it or hate it, criticism of all kinds is welcome, so feel free to tell me your thoughts... or just call me a disgusting immature bastard.

Until next time.