An idea I've had for a few months and wrote a few weeks ago has finally gotten its turn for posting!

Originally this would be on a RWBY Tuesday, but I'm putting it up now for Bradley (Wretched Panda)'s birthday. He's been with me since some of my first fics and has read and reviewed every one of them since! Happy birthday, Bradley!

A/N: First chapter is a flashback of when Weiss is younger.

Starts off darker than my usual stuff, just a warning.

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.

Chapter 1. Prologue

Dark.

Darkness like the shrouded shadows on a moonless night.

She felt like she was lost in a forest cave, cold and shivering and helpless.

She had been led here by them, and yet she did not know where "here" was.

The last thing she could remember was being asleep, curled into the comfort of her bed and tiptoeing toward the boundary of slumber when there had been noises at her door.

As she had sat herself up, her ears had picked up on their footsteps long before her eyes had opened.

There were four men, which put her on edge a little. Usually her maids would fetch her if she was needed. Her father was among them, so Weiss knew these men were not bad, not robbers or murderers come to harm her.

That was what she had thought.

Three of them had stayed at her door while her father crossed the room. He offered her a glass and told her to drink in that hauntingly low voice of his, the one that did not allow for questions. Without even speaking so much as a word, Weiss had drank the glass entirely; when her father ordered, she obeyed. It was not an option.

Almost instantly, a crash of dizziness overcame her. Her vision swayed in a haze and she slumped back into his arms. She could hardly see anymore, but she could still feel as he lifted her up and brought her outside. The other men followed him, and she heard every word they spoke.

"We need to do this quickly."

"She hasn't fallen asleep yet, sir."

"We don't have any more of the drug. She might remain conscious through it."

Being jostled too much for her small body to handle, Weiss had closed her eyes, but she could feel they were taking her to a certain part of the mansion, the part that was closed off, the part she had been conditioned to fear, the part she was forbidden to enter.

The basement.

And now she was "here" lying on a cold, hard surface that seeped through her nightgown and made her shiver. Everything was shadows, but she knew the men were still in the room, as their voices echoed off the walls and reached her.

"She still hasn't fallen asleep."

"The drug wasn't strong enough."

"Can't we wait until tomorrow?"

"No. The doctor can only be here tonight. All of the arrangements have been made. It has to be now."

She recognized the third voice to speak as her father's, and Weiss tried to open her mouth to talk. But when she tried to speak, she found there was something in between her teeth, soft and plump that prevented her from making so much as a sound.

Panic flared in her chest and she drew strength from wherever she could manage, but found that her wrists and ankles were bound. Her head felt like it was full of cotton, and she knew it was because of the water they had given her earlier. She was terrified, and she knew she should have been wide awake, but all she could feel was dreary, utterly helpless.

A few more minutes passed as she struggled in the darkness, unable to focus enough to dislodge whatever was in her mouth. Again, their voices reached her ears:

"We can't waste any more time. It's got to be done now."

"Is there really no more of the drug?"

"I'm afraid not."

There was a long pause as she waited for her father to speak again. Whatever was happening, she hoped it would have to be postponed without this "drug" they were speaking of. She hoped he would stop them.

But his next words sealed her fate:

"Very well. Proceed."

Before she could even try to cry out again, a bright light flashed on overhead. The sudden sting of the light after a period in pitch blackness caused her eyes to water, and seconds later there were tears streaming down her face. She writhed against the ropes holding her down, feeling ten times heavier than she should have, unable to so much as lift her head.

That was when she heard his footsteps approach her.

Not the other three men. Only him.

She would recognize her father even in the darkest place on the most stormy night. The way he looked down at her... his eyes apologized to her, words his lips could never speak for appearances' sake.

Perhaps his greatest act of mercy was when he reached out to hold her hand, her small fingers entirely encompassed by his. She looked up at him with frightened, pleading eyes.

He would never hurt her. He would never let anyone else hurt her. He was her father.

So why...?

Weiss sobbed past her bit, a desperate whimper escaping up her throat every now and then as she blinked up at him, begging.

But his eyes were stern, resolved, and she knew he had steeled himself to do this long ago, so that he would not waver now. He closed his eyes, unable to look at her a second longer.

"It needs to be done," he said. "It'll all be over after tonight. Once this is finished, I'll never touch you again. I promise." His hand left hers and she heard him walking away.

Weiss did not want this. She was confused and tired and cold and she just wanted to go back to her bed and dream.

But after tonight, all she would have for years to come were nightmares.

Her father crossed the room and uttered his consent.

"You may begin."

She heard him leave the room, unable to watch what he himself had hired these people to do to her.

New faces stared down at her now, and none of them cared for her tears, nor her stifled pleas. None of them paid any mind to how her body trembled and jolted under their intrusive prodding. She did not want to keep looking at their faces, so she closed her eyes against the brightness.

She heard every word they said.

She knew what they were going to do.

And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Only one person could stop them now, and he had walked away without so much as a second glance.

Weiss wanted to die.

She always thought it might have been better if the drug had worked and she had been asleep through it all, but she never got that luxury.

She was awake the entire time.

She felt everything.

The strange people stood around her head and talked amongst themselves as if Weiss was not even there. She heard the scraping metal of tools, clinking blades and loud breathing on top of her own sobs.

She wanted to die.

First, they cut her hair.

Her teeth clamped down on the towel they had so generously provided for her as more tears spiraled down her face, staining puddles into her nightgown and the table below her.

The drug they had given her did nothing.

She felt every shred of the searing, agonizing pain as the tips of blades pierced her head.

She smelled the blood.

She felt them digging into her with their knives.

She cried, wailing for help that never came.

And her silent screams were sounds her father would live with for the rest of his life.

A/N: Read on to chapter 2.