Notes at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 4

The girl . . . no, the creature spilled forth a horrific, inhumane screech from its' lips. Akin to broken glass being dragged across a chalkboard; and the skittering of the spindle arachnid legs brushing against one another only added to the harrowing sound.

One of the voices had called out something within his mind; but Jaune had barely registered the primitive warning before what remained of the disfigured woman lunged towards him – the arachnid legs that had burst from her chest had opened like a gaping maw, and Jaune could only dive out of its reach on instinct mere seconds before they clamped down around him.

Any relief he might've felt was short-lived; the pain, which had somewhat dulled, had now blossomed once more as his body tumbled across the floor, he could taste a hint of copper on his tongue, and viewing how those horrid, intricate legs wrapped around the concrete in which he had stood and tore it asunder did little to quell the sheer terror that had infected him.

It . . . if he hadn't moved . . .

Oh God . . .

As he stumbled to a stand Jaune could feel the bile rise in his throat; and as he watched the nightmare of a monster release a disturbed groan and turn to face him once more, he felt his feet become rooted to the ground.

This wasn't a dream; there wouldn't be a moment where he would be spun out of the haunting, fearful scenario akin to waking up to a nightmare. He wouldn't find himself back in his bed, with little worry other than fading memories of a terrible night's rest.

He . . He was going to die.

The fool has seen enough, do you intend on further mockery?

The situation changed – this wasn't the plan.

The voices were back – or had they never stopped talking in the first place and the thunderous beat of Jaunes' heart pounding in his ears merely drowned them out? He almost wanted to laugh; to think that hearing others speak within his own mind would be the least frightening aspect of the situation.

Your ideals and wishes mean little. The abomination must perish; finish your task, as is your duty.

I can't take control.

Wretch! Of all the impotent foolish creatures-

They, whatever they were, continued to bicker against one another but his own attention was focused on how the horrific beast had turned its attention from managing upon the floor it had ripped from the ground and back upon him. It staggered towards him, what remained of its human carcass seemingly struggling to keep up with its newfound weight, but the exposed rooftop meant there was little room for it to travel until it was upon him once more.

He tried to calm himself, not exactly the easiest task while bleeding and facing something ripped straight out of the horror movies some of his sisters adored, and even as he tried to calm his breathing he couldn't quite shake the fear in his bones, how he could feel his heartbeat in his ears. It did allow Jaune to focus, however; his options running through his mind as he grit his teeth.

They weren't exactly great options. The enclosed space also meant no means of attempting his own escape unless he wanted to try running past whatever nightmarish creature stood opposite him, or take his chances of not going splat on a twenty-story drop. He doubted even aura would do much to help, if it were able to handle such impacts then there would've been no need for 'landing strategies' in Beacons initiation.

Wait, aura?

Looking down at his chest he was still greeted with the nauseous sight of it being stained in a bloody crimson, wincing as another shot of pain raced up his body. He wasn't an expert on anything aura - he'd not known it existed a few weeks prior - but wasn't it meant to prevent stuff like this, or at the very least heal him? He could feel that same energy now coursing through him as it always did, even now he could see the shimmer of gold flicker where his arm had rolled against the ground and yet there wasn't even a flicker of that same energy on his injuries.

There wasn't time to ponder on whatever the hell was going on with his aura, not as the arachnid beast wallowed ever closer. Weeks worth of combat-drills kicked in; bearing through the pain, his right hand snapped down to his hip and wrapped around the hilt of his weapon, fingers wrapping tightly around the handle Jaune hoisted up his blade and pointed it against his foe as he readied his stance.

Something that wasn't Crocea Mors stared back at him.

Blue eyes blinked owlishly at the curved, circular blade that was in his grip in place of his family sword; shaped more like the crescent imagery his father's lineage adorned, it was only a few mere inches in length and while its golden trims seemed to glow in the moonlight. It hardly looked as intimidating, nor as useful, compared to that of a full-length blade.

The creature seemed to share the same sentiment as he; releasing a nightmarish screech moments before it rushed towards him again. The distance was too brief to maneuver out of its path like he had prior; he had mere moments to ready himself as its body crashed into his own, the same mandible-like appendages that had previously ripped into concrete did their best to close around and repeat said 'ripping' upon his body. His aura sparked to life; his entire body shimmering in the protective field as the arachnid creature bore down upon him.

It was as terrifying as it was painful, to have the arachnid ribcage pierce down around his body. To see the bloody remains of the girls' - the creatures - initial body so close, in visceral detail was a brutal, horrifying sight, but one he couldn't focus on as his attention remained on keeping the legs of the blast from clamping down around him. Both of his arms were spread apart to keep the beast at bay, but with every passing moment, he could feel his remaining strength being sapped.

It'll rip apart your bones like paper, you can't win through brute strength. Part of Jaune wondered just how the voice seemed to remain so calm - so flat in tone - while he himself could feel his own heart run a mile a minute, and another part wanted to scream out that he'd already picked up that fact when the horrid thing had ripped apart solid concrete like sand just a few moments ago!

Still, cursing out or not, it was right, he could already feel his strength wane in his arms as the mangled arachnid jaw clamped down ever closer; with a disgusted wince, he slammed his right foot upwards and into the mangled flesh of beast with all his might.

Fighting against its own disrupted weight, combined with his kick, had sent it tumbling back a few feet as it fought to regain its balance. Enough to catch his breath, wince at the ache of his arms, and long enough to worry about his next move. The adrenaline rushing through his veins wouldn't last enough to escape, and unless he discovered a semblance for flight, the edge of the roof still wasn't an option. Scourging the rooftop for anything useful proved fruitless as well; Other than rubble, the clearing was empty besides some rudimentary tubes and vents littered across the roof that hooked up to sizable exhaust fans-

Wait, the exhaust fans!

Smart, things that size'll be brimming with 'that'.

His thoughts exactly, not that he needed nor wanted the affirmation from the voice. There wasn't a moment to spare, while the arachnid monstrosity regained its footing with a growl, Jaune dashed to the side and towards the heavy-duty fans embedded into the rooftop; ignoring how a roar of pain flamed up his legs with every step, not only out of necessity but also out of fear as the skittering sprint of the creature had also begun and encroached closer with every second.

Less than ten seconds, that's how long it took him to reach the front of the metallic frames of the fans and yet it had felt much longer; there wasn't any time to dwindle on such thoughts however as an ear-peircing screech descended towards him.

Diving to the side, Jaune barely managed to avoid becoming sliced chunks as the creature crashed into the ventilation and fans, ribcage-like jaws lurching into the metal and tearing it asunder; but more vital to his survival, exposing the thin wires within the industrial fans that were used to provide power to the spinning blades. The multi-colored strips themselves were useless, but what they contained was far more precious.

Dust. Or more specifically, lightning dust.

Only it hadn't ignited.

His stomach dropped as the yellow dust fell upon the ground lifelessly - his hope that the monster's assault would create enough friction to cause an ignition had seemingly failed. Even now, as the creature screeched and tore into the machinery that dare block it's path to its latest meal, there was no reaction to the powder below. That . . . That meant he failed. His plan didn't work. He was going to die.

Snap out of it! It felt as if there was a metaphysical smack across his face; a nonexistent tingling sensation burning against his cheek, but enough to pull him from his fear-stricken daze;

Soil yourself later, either adapt to the situation or jump off' that roof! It'll be less agonizing than being torn apart limb by limb! Easy for it to say, whatever this voice was, it wasn't stuck on a roof with a creature ripped out of a child's nightmare with no way to win or even escape! He wanted to scream, to cry, but all that came forth was choked sobs;

There's always a way; you just refuse to acknowledge it. Refuse to acknowledge what!? He needed energy, a spark, and yet all he had on him was tattered clothes, cuts that pulsed angrily in pain, and a curved blade he couldn't even use properly! Even if the beast was distracted momentarily, he knew he couldn't dig in the blade deep enough to cause any sort of worthwhile damage - he wasn't like the arachnid monster, while it could rip into the concrete like wet sandpaper, his own attacks wouldn't even dent it, sliding right off and . . .and . .

. . and causing a spark with enough momentum and force.

It was a nonsensical idea; not only was it not guaranteed to work, but it would place him directly in harm's way - Goodwitch had always stressed the importance of the dangers refined Dust could still bring - but there was still a chance it could work. There truly wasn't any other option; try as he might to deny it, the voice was right, either he fought or he died, there was no more second chances.

Staring down at the blade he'd yet to let go of - its grip felt oddly familiar - Jaune lunged forward, letting out what could only be described as a ferocious roar mixed with a petrified scream of terror; his mind was ablaze with fright, especially as the creature turned its attention back towards him, but yet his feet did not stop as much as his rational mind begged them to. As he ran his body drew as close to the ground as possible; the metallic blade screeching against the concrete it was dragged against with a whine.

The arachnid woman threw herself down towards him, monstrous jaws opening to clamp down upon him.

Jaune threw his arm up towards her, the crescent blade shimmering against the moonlight.

A spark ignited as the blade was ripped from the floor.

Jaune's vision exploded into light, and pain.

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Jaune awoke a second time that night and immediately fell to the ground with a pained cry. Small mercies found it that he was now back upon solid ground, having fallen upon a sidewalk with an empty road to his right, though he didn't dare question out loud his confusion on how exactly he'd gotten to that point. Unfortunately, he didn't need to question it out loud it seemed;

I am, was, taking us to a place that'll help us, unless you're alright with bleeding away on a sidewalk. Your aura tanked most of the electrical damage, but the cuts will be infected if we let them be.

Jaune wanted to ask a million questions; how was it taking him? What happened to the monster from the roof? What in the absolute hell was going on!? Sadly the only thing that did come forth was a steady stream of bile, and blood, that spilled onto the ground in a series of coughs. It took all the strength he had to come to a stand, and even so there were numerous points where he fell and crashed against the ground as he stumbled through the empty streets, clearly following the directions that echoed in his mind.

Every breath was heaved, and with every step the world around him became little more than a blur.

I know it hurts, but keeping pushing. You'll be safe there, trust me.

He hadn't known how long he journeyed, seconds felt like hours, but as he took a sharp left into a darkened ally, hand clasped upon the brick wall to steady his footing, he couldn't help the spring of worry that seeped into him.

As it turned out "a place" was not one of Vales' general hospitals like Jaunes exhausted addled mind had hoped; but rather instead a secluded building that had the blonde had found as he ventured deeper into the allys twist and turns, warily staring up at a flickering, mangled neon sign that read 'Rooks', iron bars strapped upon each window and what looked like bullet holes littering the walls.

Jaune had almost gone against the voice's wishes at that moment to call for help from someone, anyone; only for the door to the building to be abruptly slid open. His body was at its limit, however, and using the molded alley wall as a means to support himself, Jaune had only been able to blearily make out the features of the rather short figure that stepped out.

"Back again already? My, my, you are a glutton' for punishment."

Jaune had barely registered the words, even as the stranger continued to speak their words seemed to meld together into one another, the shape of the world slipping around him as the ground beneath suddenly became ever closer. The last thought that wormed through his mind was that whomever now peered down at him did so with such unnaturally bright, yellow eyes.

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When he awoke once more, it was to find a nauseating light pressed down upon his face, his mind swam in numbness that had bile threatening to be raised in his throat. The memories came rushing in soon after - the voices, the monster, the pain-hazed stagger through Vale's street - and Jaune had instantly shot up. It was found to be a mistake instantly; pain flooded through his chest, his arm instinctively coming to wrap around it to contain what he could of the cuts - only to find soft, padded fabric in the place of a ripped shirt and bloodied wounds.

"Up' already? Ha', I should've guessed, eh! Not like you' to take a break, huh?" A voice he didn't recognize spoke out, and Jaune was getting a little uncomfortable with how often that seemed to be happening, though Jaune couldn't pinpoint exactly where it had. The light around him seemed to be blinding and he pushed an arm up to try and shade his eyes.

"Where, ah, where am I . . . ?" The voice, for little as it whispered right now, had told him he'd be safe, but he wasn't exactly on board with trusting only its word.

"You can't memb'r? That could be problematic." The unfamiliar voice spoke up once more, the fact that he couldn't even place the regional dialect worried him, but right now it was the least of his problems as he furthered his hands over his face to shield himself from the light that bore down upon him.

"Light's too bright, I can't see anything."

"The light? But it's only set to dim, why would - . . oh, right, eyes' still adjustin', eh'?" What was that accent? Still, whoever was with him must've understood his plight as the light - now revealed to have been a lamp - was soon pulled from over his head and pushed to the side. Blinking away the daze and dots in his eyes, Jaune was finally able to take in his surroundings.

To describe the room as shoddy would be an understatement; the walls surrounding him were a neutered brown that had once been a much brighter color long past, glass cabinets filled with various colored jars were cracked and even missing pieces altogether, and the carpet that made up the floor was ripped and miscolored in areas. Even the couch he found himself laying on was stained and torn, and far from comfortable.

All in all, it looked like a dump.

His attention however wasn't focused on what was surrounding him, but more on who was in the room with him; across a shoddy table that leaned to one side stood a man who couldn't be much taller than four foot judging by how his eyes met the height of the table he was against, and they were for sure a man judging by the thick black beard that adorned their chin.

He didn't think it was a child or anything, that's for sure.

It was their eyes however that ensnared his gaze; they were entirely yellow asides from their pupil, even their sclera was made up of the almost luminescent color and Jaune found himself having to blink a few times to tear his eyes away. A faunus perhaps? He'd never seen anyone with those type of eyes before, and he certainly didn't want to be judgemental to someone who'd obviously helped patch him up.

He's not human, got that right.

He blinked owlishly in response, part in feeling the sensation of another voice worming in his head returning, but also digesting whatever said words actually meant. It seemed his response, and silent staring, was picked up in some manner by the man across the room whom with a small huff stopped fiddling with the items he held and walked over to where Jaune laid;

"Honest'y lad, I haven't seen you this beat up since you took on that Churel' business a month back! I only g'st you patched up again too and then you come waddl'n in and bleeding all other my floor." His tone was a mixture of mirth and annoyance; Jaune could only silently wince as the man's hands lurched forward to wrap around the bandages across his chest to tighten them; "Nothin' too deep though', might be wobbly' on your feet for a few . . . I'd tell you to rest but we both know that'd be a waste of air."

He was speaking as if he knew Jaune, like this wasn't his first time ending up on a soiled couch with wounds needing treatment; it was insane to even think, because Jaune knew he'd never seen anyone like the man in front of him in his life, and yet another part of him, a troubled frightened part, couldn't deny how familiar everything in the unknown room felt.

You've got questions. Tell him to leave.

He knew maybe following the words of the voice in his head (he wasn't crazy, he swore) might've not been the smartest idea, but the burning need to figure out what the hell was happening was far too great and overwhelmed any common sense and judgment; what surprised him was how easy it was to get the room to himself, just a small mention that he wanted to collect his thoughts was enough for the strange man to shrug and leave with no qualms.

Now, he was alone.

Except, he wasn't, was he?

"What the hell are you?" He kept his voice hushed, not wanting to draw the attention of the bearded fellow who was still somewhere nearby, and the walls around him didn't look particularly thick. The voice was quiet for some time, Jaune almost thought it had vanished entirely before it spoke up again;

That's what you want to ask? Not what was the thing that tried to gut you like a fish earlier?

"Oh sorry for wanting to make sure I'm not going insane, because ordinarily people don't have another voice in their head arguing with them!" He pushed himself to a stand, taking in more of his environment as he spoke.

You're not . . . look, I'm not an 'it', I'm just someone trying to get a job done and had no choice but to draw you into this; trust me, if I had my way you wouldn't be involved at all. If everything wasn't going to shit you'd still be in that damn school worrying about girl troubles or whatever.

"So what, you're someone who just hitched a ride in my head? How does that explain anything!?" Jaune wanted to laugh or curse, maybe both, hand raised to cradle his head, teeth grit; "I'm waking up with injuries all over me, I have voices in my head and I just fought a spider monster on a godamn roof, I think I'm owed some sort of explanation!"

The voice was silent once more, and as the seconds ticked by he felt the want to yell out for it to answer him again, but once more it beat him to the punch;

. . . You're right. You deserve that much, at least. I can't say you'll accept everything, but I promise not to lie. So, tell me Jaune Arc, what's your favorite fairy tale?

Woooo', fourth chapter! Only took a little while, just a little more than half a year - we'll soon hit the double digits by the year 2026 hopefully!

Okay, so Uni' took up all of my time, and I do mean all of it - even canceled a holiday just so I could work on a project more - and so I had zero time for writing even as much as I wanted to. At least I passed with a high grade at the end of the day.

I honestly had zilch' in terms of free time until like July, even threw up another story soon after that, but then job hunting began taking up most of my days and . . .

. . . well now it's September and I remembered I have a story I had plans for. I have a word document with several pages detailing the important story beats I want to hit and it's just been gathering dust.

Honestly what made me want to come back was re-reading the reviews - despite them being months old - and remembering that people, other than me, actually like this story? Man is that a motivation booster. I want to promise and say this'll be updated on a regular schedule now, but honestly, feel like that might be a lie - but I will try my best!

Onto the chapter itself; man was the fight at the start painful - I said it in the second chapter with Cardin, I always struggle with fights that are meant to be one-sided, which begs the question why I even decided to write this sorta' story. Who knows, maybe I'll get better and more used to it.

Hopefully, it isn't too much of a mess, I'd say about 60% of this chapter was wrote back in March, and then I came back and finished it now and added more in between where I think it was needed. Slightly smaller than the rest of the chapters, mostly because I intend to split it up into two because the end result would've been closer to 8-9k words.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! I'll (probably) see you in the next chapter!