Almost everyone who lived in the Schnee Manor knew that Klein had dissociative identity disorder. He had seven personalities, as a matter of fact. Though each of them couldn't be any more different, that never hindered his position as the Schnee's family butler.

While his seven personalities rarely agreed on anything, they did agree on two things. One, the Schnee children, including Whitley, were poor little angels that needed to be protected at all costs. And two… Mother was an absolutely repulsive, depraved monster.

When Jacques first called him to his study and introduced him to Mother, Klein instantly felt the emotions that his many personalities were going through upon seeing her. Shock. Fear. Disgust. Horror. They came out of nowhere and almost made him lose his composure.

Almost. Despite that, he kept a calm facade and politely greeted their new guest, even though he felt every fiber of his being writhe in revulsion upon shaking her hand.

It was cold and clammy, like he was shaking hands with a corpse.

His shock grew tenfold when Jacques told him that she would be staying with them for many years to come. He wanted to protest, but kept his mouth shut instead. After all, he was not so unprofessional as to let his emotions put him in danger of losing his job.

Jacques was afraid. Klein knew that the moment he saw his face. That alone made him question whether or not he was dreaming. In all his years of serving the Schnee family, he could count on one hand the times when his employer was afraid. And even then, it was never to that extent. But Klein couldn't blame him. He felt exactly the same in Mother's presence.

Nobody in the manor - not the Schnees, nor Klein or any of the servants - were allowed to tell anyone else about Mother. Jacques made it quite clear to everyone when he called every single one of them out to the courtyard and announced the news. As long as anyone outside the manor was concerned, Mother didn't exist. And it had to stay that way, or there would be severe consequences. The staff and servants followed his instructions without a word. But afterwards, whispers and rumors began to circulate through the staff. Who was Mother? Why did she come here? Why did she look so creepy? Why were they not allowed to tell anyone?

To Klein, this meant bad news. Anyone who insisted on their identity being kept a secret couldn't be up to anything good. So he made sure to keep a close eye on her.

She couldn't be a spy from the White Fang, because she wasn't a faunus. She couldn't simply be some gold digger, because Jacques would've seen right through that and kicked her out onto the streets, if not have her arrested. So who was she? Why was she here?

And why did she take such a deep interest in the children?

Wherever the children were, Mother would always try to be there with them. She would follow them, watch them, like a mother hen hovering over her chicks. But the look in her eyes was far from loving. Klein didn't know how to describe it, but he hated the way Mother stared at the children, especially Weiss. He hated the way she followed them, the way she acted around them, the way she touched them. In all honesty, he couldn't stand her being in the same room as them, and would've done something about it by now, if Jacques hadn't given him stern and direct orders not to do so. It was not the type of behavior a mother should ever exhibit towards her children. It was not the type of behavior anyone should exhibit towards children.

It all started in the library. Weiss was diligently working on her studies, Klein was dusting the bookshelves, and Mother was sitting in a nearby rocking chair, humming some strange tune. Suddenly, Mother stopped humming and spoke up, causing both of them to tense up. "Weiss, you must be so tired from studying all day." Even after an entire week or so had passed, her voice, which sounded unnaturally deep and baritone, was difficult to get used to.

"I-I'm fine, Mother," Weiss said meekly, keeping her eyes on the open book in front of her. Klein stopped dusting for a moment and listened in. "It is not healthy for such a young girl to have her nose in a book for so long," said Mother. "Let me help you relax. Come and sit on my lap." Unfortunately for Weiss, it was not a request. It was a demand.

Weiss glanced at Klein with fear in her eyes. Klein shook his head no, but both of them knew she was going to do it. It was one of the many new rules that had been imposed on the household since Mother's arrival. Don't disobey Mother. Don't make her angry.

Up until now, Mother had never gotten angry. It was best to keep it that way.

Forcing down a whimper, Weiss slowly sat up from her chair and walked over to Mother with her head hung low. Once she got close enough, Mother reached out and snatched her up, causing the little heiress to let out an undignified squeak. She placed Weiss on her lap, then began stroking her hair rather roughly, humming the same tune from before.

Weiss was frozen stiff. So was Klein. Neither of them knew what to do.

"My Snow Angel," Mother whispered, a hint of excitement in her voice. Then, to their shock and horror, she leaned her head down and licked Weiss' face, dragging her tongue along Weiss' cheek sensually. At the same time, she reached down and squeezed Weiss' butt with her other hand, causing the six year old girl to cry out in shock with tears in her eyes.

"WHAT IN OUM'S NAME ARE YOU DOING?!," Klein roared. The feather duster in his hand fell to the floor with a loud clatter. His eyes were red with fury. Literally red. They tend to change color whenever one of his other personalities temporarily takes over.

Mother looked up at him, a dribble of saliva still clinging to her chin. There was no fear or regret in her eyes. "Calm down, Klein. We're in a library," she said lightheartedly.

Klein, of course, did not share in her humor. "Take your hands off her. Now," he growled, clenching his fists in anger. Mother stared at him for a moment, then smiled and did as she was told. Weiss immediately jumped off Mother's lap and ran towards Klein, barreling into him while wrapping her arms around his waist. Klein hugged her protectively, his eyes still fixed on Mother. "Oh, dear. Was I going too fast?," she asked. "Alright. Another time, then."

"There won't be another time. You mark my words, you perverted slut!," Klein hissed. With Weiss still clinging to him, he walked out of the library, feeling Mother's eyes staring at the back of his head. But he didn't care. This was the last straw for him. This had to end.

Mother needed to die.