Whitley knew that Mother was trouble from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Just because he was the youngest did not mean he was any less brighter than his sisters. He knew that being on the receiving end of Mother's ire would not be pleasant in the slightest, which was why he was determined to stay under her radar for as long as he possibly could.

And so far, it was working quite well for him, though there were a few slip-ups and close calls. There was the time when he sneezed without covering his mouth, not knowing that Mother was right around the corner, and she had fixed him with a terrifying glare until Whitley felt like he was about to pass out from fear. There was also the time when Mother took her aggression out on one of the servants right outside of Whitley's room while he was inside, even going as far as to repeatedly slam them against Whitley's door until it was close to shattering.

But other than that, Mother did not pay much attention to him, other than tucking him into bed at night and humming strange tunes like she did with his sisters. And that was just fine with him. As long as he didn't have too big of a target painted on his back, he was fine.

However, that wasn't quite enough to prevent feelings of remorse or guilt from plaguing his mind every so often. Yes, he could usually go about his day without having to worry about Mother (most of the time), but unfortunately, the same could not be said for his sisters. For some odd reason, Mother had taken a peculiar interest in them. Winter in particular had recently had a very harrowing experience, to say the least. First, she was kidnapped by the White Fang. Then, she came back, only to come down with a severe sickness. And then, as if things could not get any worse for her, Mother snuck into her bedroom a few nights ago and… well, he didn't really want to go into that right now. Just thinking about it was enough to make him feel ill.

That night, Whitley was wide awake when Weiss began pounding on his door, begging for him to come out and save their sister. He did not answer her, no matter how much she cried and begged. Even as tears of his own began filling up his eyes, even as his fingers gripped his blanket so tightly that his nails tore through the fabric and pierced through the skin on his palms, Whitley stayed in his bed and did not make a peep until Weiss gave up and left.

Perhaps that made him selfish, or even cruel. Whitley would not blame you if you called him that. Even though he never got along with his sisters, they were still family. It genuinely hurt him to see them in such pain and misery every day. One day, he would make it up to them. But as of now, his own self-preservation overwhelmed any sympathy he had for them.

There was one other thing that had him worried, however. People were disappearing. The servants and staff members. It wasn't noticeable at first, since Whitley never bothered to memorize their faces anyway, but after a while, you could not help but notice it.

It seemed that as each day passed, a single staff member, whether it be a butler, a chef, a maid, or a bodyguard, vanished into thin air. There were already far fewer of them since more than half of them quit their jobs right after witnessing Klein's death, but it seemed to Whitley that number was dwindling even further. He didn't know what to think of it. He only knew that Mother was most likely behind these disappearances, and whatever she had done to them, it could not be anything good. So one night, he laid in his bed, wide awake and alert. It had been some time since Mother had… assaulted Winter, and after that, things had somewhat calmed down. That didn't mean everyone was relaxed, however. If anything, it only made them more on edge than ever before, because they knew that this was the calm before the storm, so to say.

As Whitley laid awake, listening for any sounds in the smothering darkness, he suddenly felt an indescribable urge to leave his bed, walk to his door, and peek outside. He had no idea where it came from. It struck him out of the blue, a feeling that something terrible was out in the halls, and that he had to see what it was, no matter how idiotic and asinine it was to do so. Like something had taken possession of his body, he slowly crawled out of bed and walked across his room, the sounds of the floor quietly creaking under his feet. Even though every instinct in him was screaming at him to stop, his legs moved on their own. He stopped at his door, slowly opened it, and peeked through the crack between the door and the doorframe.

He looked to the right of the hallway. There was nothing there. He looked to the left.

His heart momentarily stopped. His eyes went wide. The hairs on his neck stood straight up. His blood went cold. He was frozen in place, petrified with unadulterated fear.

To his left, at the far end of the hallway, was the silhouette of a massive creature. It was so large that its entire frame nearly filled up the hall, even though it was crouching on all fours. It was vaguely humanoid in shape, with long hair dangling in front of its face. It was much too dark inside, preventing Whitley from getting a good look at it. He was grateful for that.

He stayed as still as possible, watching the creature shamble through the hall, its large frame barely squeezing its way through. As it slowly crawled closer, it seemed to stop every few moments and sniff the floor or the air, almost as though it was hunting for prey.

And that was exactly what it was doing.

You would think that something so large would make at least some noise when it moved around, but Whitley couldn't hear anything other than his own breathing and his rapidly beating heart. Even as the creature bumped into the walls or took a single step, it was just as quiet as if there was no creature there at all. That, combined with its horrific appearance, made this whole thing seem incredibly surreal. Whitley wasn't sure if he was even dreaming or not.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps, but not from the monster. It came from the other end of the hall. The monster heard it too, and went completely still. Whitley looked to his right and saw a dim, orange light growing brighter and brighter. A faunus maid walked from around the corner, holding a candle to light the way. That wasn't anything new. It was a normal routine for there to be servants or maids patrolling the manor at night. At first, the maid didn't notice the monster at the end of the hall. Then, she did. Her eyes went wide. Her tail poofed and went straight up. She dropped the candle she was holding, opened her mouth, and was about to scream…

With speed that shouldn't have been possible, the creature rushed through the hall at the maid, grabbed her with its giant hand to muffle her screams, and proceeded to swallow her whole. It all happened so fast that Whitley would've missed it if he had blinked. Unbelievably, even as it happened, there wasn't a single sound. The candle still gave off some of its light, and for a very brief moment, he saw what the creature's face really looked like. He suddenly became aware that he was standing in a warm puddle, and realized he had peed himself.

Suddenly, it all connected. Whitley thought back to all those servants, and how there seemed to have been fewer and fewer of them as time went on. Now, it made sense. This thing had been hunting them down every night, one by one. They had been eaten.

After gulping down its latest meal, the creature suddenly sniffed the air, then turned its head to face Whitley's direction. Unable to suppress a loud gasp, Whitley ran back to his bed and dived under the covers. He hid his head under the blanket, covering himself in darkness, and prayed that it wouldn't come in here. That it wouldn't come for him next.

He heard footsteps outside his door. He heard the door open. He heard the footsteps continue until they were right by his bed. There was complete silence. Then, he felt someone petting his head. He began shaking and crying, wanting this nightmare to be over.

"You were not supposed to see me like that," said the familiar voice of Mother.

Just like the faunus maid, Whitley didn't even have the chance to scream.