A/N: Hello. :) Since there wasn't any short prior to the release of RWBY Volume 7, I thought I'd kick off my final book for "The Grimm Huntsman" with a character short for one of my OC's. It will be dedicated to Schorl, portrayed by Troy Baker. It will show his life before he became what he is, but it won't show all of what happens to him as most of those scenes carry an important impact to the other characters whom he comes into contact with. And, as you can probably guess, Schorl is based off of the Crooked Man of legend. So I wouldn't expect any happiness he has to last long... For that reason, my story will be rated "M" for potentially bloody scenes, as well as a possibility of graphic sexuality, though you won't see them too much in this prologue. Also, Jacques Schnee is still dead in my books, so you can expect a different approach to occur here in Atlas. Other than that, I hope you enjoy... :)

Prologue: "The Crooked Man"

At Mistral, inside the Spider's Web, a man with short raven hair, hazel-colored eyes, a dark indigo coat with coattails on the bottom of it and a white spider logo on the back, and black pants was sitting on the table, tapping his fingernails on the table. He had a sour countenance on his face. One might suppose it was another of his... usual bad days. But this day was different, and for good reason. Since finding the location for the travelers Crimson was looking for, he'd been in such a mood of distaste just from remembering the name of Atlas. Because Atlas, in itself, had him thinking of the one person he himself once cherished...

Though, it wasn't for anyone else to know. Even Lil' Miss Malachite was out of the loop on that matter. His business was his business, to coin a certain loner's phrase. Of course, it didn't last long as she came into the room and noticed him more sour than usual.

"You doing okay, honey? You haven't budged an inch for a week. It can't be healthy to sit here all the livelong day."

To answer, the figure stopped tapping his fingernails before speaking to her in a cold and curious tone.

"Tell me something, dear. What's your favorite fairytale?"

While the conversation began, the figure, now dressed in a dark red jacket and dark blue pants was walking in the rain with a small bell in his jacket pocket and a red umbrella over his head, with his face feeling welcomed the moment he saw the city far away in view, having walked well over a mile to get there. But in the city, that welcome didn't last: all around him were people, Faunus or otherwise, giving off glances with how oddly slanted he was. He was leaning forward, but his back appeared as though it were broken. For people to believe this, he had a cane in his other hand. Still, the children that walked the crossroads found him unsettling as when they walked by, he gave a smile to them, making them walk a bit faster away from him. He became a bit saddened by this as he began to frown in sorrow before he proceeded to walk with what appeared to be voices commenting on his appearance and judging him.

"Oh? You're gonna tell me a story?"

"Of a sort. But it's not like any fairytale you've heard before. No. This fairytale... is reality. And in reality, there's nothing as cruel as memory. One moment, you're lost in a carnival of delight, the childhood aromas, the flashing neon of puberty, all that sentimental candy floss. And the next, it takes you somewhere you don't want to be. Somewhere dark and cold, filled with damp, ambiguous shapes of things one would rather forget."

"What are you doing here, Hunchback?"

"Did you turn into an old man already?"

"This man, he doesn't seem... human."

"You think that's a Grimm in disguise?"

"I'm not letting him anywhere near my children."

"The voices in your head, screaming through your synapses. Inescapable, unrelenting, not at all friendly."

The figure then began to run away in an attempt to get away from those condescending voices before he inadvertently bumped into a woman with white-blonde hair and a ponytail behind her, violet eyes, a couple of beauty marks under her right eye and another on the left side under her mouth. Her outfit was predominantly green with the exception of a red shirt under her jacket and a bird brooch on her olive scarf. Immediately, he tried to apologize for the apparent bump-in as he spoke timidly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry about that! I-I wasn't looking where I was going! I'll just get out of your—!"

He'd tried to run away, but the woman said something back to him that wasn't scornful or fearful like the others. Though, it wasn't to say that she didn't notice the bend in his back.

"No. It's okay, really. But... are you okay?"

The figure turned back to the woman with a look that suggested he was... confused. No one else had seemed to show compassion to him for his condition. He didn't know what to think. The best he could answer was...

"I... I don't know..."

The woman looked to him in pity from his answer before her hands went to the man's and held them gently as she spoke.

"Maybe I can try to help you until then. My name's Robyn. Robyn Hill. And you?"

The figure was in a stunned daze for a bit with no one having made this much effort to get to know him. He assumed it would only come when his back didn't make him look so cursed. But now was just as fine for him...

"My name... is Schorl."

In the next flashback, Schorl (having taken off his jacket to reveal a black shirt) was now inside Robyn's apartment as he looked out of her window, overlooking the glowing orange lights in the city, presumably the streetlights. The sight was breathtaking as far as he saw, given it was his first time in Mantle. All the while, Robyn (dressed now in her red shirt and pants) was sitting on her bed, giving a smile to him while trying to get used to the sight of his back seemingly bending inward to his stomach while Schorl voiced his amazement.

"The sight up here is astounding."

"I know. But, it gets old after a few weeks."

Schorl looked back behind him to see Robyn staring at his back, which made her avert her eyes from him, afraid she'd come off as insensitive to him, only for him to notice as he spoke to her.

"I know you're wondering about my back."

Robyn knew he was right on the mark and decided to be blunt with him.

"Nothing gets by you, huh?"

"Funny story, actually. I have this condition called a Marfan Syndrome. My limbs can go beyond normal human limits. Look, see?"

To demonstrate, Schorl began to extend his thumb as far as it could go with a few cracks as it seemed to go farther than should be possible, which made Robyn a bit nervous as she gasped before the thumb went back into its socket.

"Not a pretty sight, is it?"

"You didn't have to show me that. I believed you."

"Nobody else did. The people around me seem to think I'm a Grimm in human clothing. I'm surprised they didn't try to sic the police on me."

"Um... have you thought about getting a back brace?"

"Believe me, that's why I'm here. For some reason, it's been... delayed. So I had to walk over a mile just to get it."

"Walk? You... you don't live in Mantle, do you?"

"I thought it was obvious. I didn't look like everyone else would, my... illness aside."

As Schorl's voice lowered itself to a sad tone, Robyn generally began to feel bad for this man as she stood up and walked to him before she spoke to him.

"I'm sorry your first time in Mantle didn't turn out so happy for you."

As Robyn tried to place her hand on his shoulder, Schorl stopped her as he held his hand up.

"I'm not. I expected as much, really. But when I get this new back brace, I swear, things will finally come up."

Hearing him speak proudly of it, Robyn became confused about why he'd be so confident in it. He seemed so certain it'll help him.

"Really? How so?"

"Well, have you ever heard of cryotherapy? This new back brace can supposedly utilize fire and ice dust crystals, er, not particularly in that order. Along with helping me straighten up, it'll make dealing with the pain easier. Or at very least, I won't look like such a freak."

Upon hearing of such news, Robyn gave a soft smile to him. It was a relief to hear that he wouldn't be treated so rough from here on out, assuming he'd get his hands on it.

"Wow... that actually sounds nice."

"I know. In fact, I gave up my life savings on it."

That's where Robyn showed her concern. She knew he's certain it can help him, but for him to give up all of his money for it... somehow, it made her worried.

"Your whole life savings...? Is it really that important to you?"

"Well, I don't exactly live in Atlas, that's for sure. I mean, I have a job, but the pay is practically peanuts. But, I saved them up for a whole year just to get the one answer to my problems. I know it'll fix everything."

"But... have you thought about what you'll do if it doesn't?"

Schorl could hear the concern in her voice and soon, he began to feel worried as well. He was so sure it would work, but since coming here to Mantle, his faith was admittedly shaken up with how the people judged him. The walk here, the money he's had to scrounge up, the thought of doing all of that for nothing was something he's scared to think about.

"No. I'm... I'm not sure I want to."

Robyn could tell that he didn't come all this way for nothing, but she wanted him to know that it wasn't. At least not as far as she's concerned. She knew one way to start if it didn't work out.

"Well... maybe you could have a better life here in Mantle. I could help with getting you a better job. I'm sure they'll understand if I explain your condition to them."

Hearing her offer to help, Schorl's face began to soften as he looked to her with hope in his eyes.

"That sounds... delightful."

Play Lucas King Music: "Hate"

About two months since then, Schorl's new life with Robyn had been off to a great start. For one thing, Schorl was plentifully relieved to have received his long-awaited therapeutic back brace to help with the pain in his back as a result from his Marfan Syndrome. The only downside to it was that the fire and ice dust crystals were finite. So, naturally, Robyn tried her best to look for a job that'd best suit Schorl. In the end, Schorl ended up employed in the Schnee Dust Company at a nonessential post. Yet even the pay from that was acceptably higher than what he had outside of Mantle. As a result, Schorl was getting a much different welcome than when he first came here.

The children that walked by no longer feared his smile; they even enjoyed the small bell he carried with him. The people around him didn't point or jeer, nor did they feel threatened by him. He was feeling... acceptance. That which has been denied him for so long was finally in his grasp. Then came the Fall of Beacon.

Since then, Ironwood enforced a Dust Embargo to keep people from pointing fingers in a dangerous way. Unfortunately, it wasn't without consequence to the people who relied on Dust, especially to Schorl. His back brace needed Dust to engage the cryotherapy necessary to purge his pain. But with that Embargo in place, he might as well be suffering in silence. However, his sufferings didn't go so silent when the Dust supply ran out a few days after. The pain assaulted him again, but with a greater potency than he had to deal with before. And however gradual it was, it's beginning to push him to drastic measures...

As Mantle began to decline, Schorl began to write in his notebook the conditions of Mantle and what he felt must be done about it. Robyn would be curious about what exactly it was that he wrote, but out of fear that she wouldn't understand any of it, he'd politely ask her to leave him be. Meanwhile, Schorl's back brace did nothing for his pain, but as mentioned before, it helped to hide it from the rest of the world. And as if that weren't enough, the people around him were becoming more and more agitated with the result of the Embargo, especially concerning those who worked in the Schnee Dust Company. But it was an especially hard blow to the Schnee family, as he soon found out.

One night, while he was walking by himself, he took notice of the riots up ahead, particularly about the Dust Embargo. To clear himself away from the storm, Schorl tried to run to a different alley. In so doing, he was able to escape. But as he caught his breath, he noticed a woman with white hair and elegant attire sitting at a table in the bar.

Normally, he'd be puzzled to find that a woman with such stature would go to a podunk like this, and he was. But he remembered the rumors he'd heard in the workplace, rumors about someone in the Schnee Family who's had the hardest time. Schorl didn't quite see it when he looked at her then, so much as someone who's had a bad day. He was hesitant to go inside and see for himself at first with the risk of his back brace giving away his condition, but then he figured it might help to talk to someone like him as he walked in and sat down by her. When the bartender came up to the two of them, the woman spoke up in a sad voice.

"I'll have another of the usual, please."

"And what about your friend?"

The woman turned to her left to see Schorl, which made her confused to see someone else sitting next to her. Adding to that, she didn't quite know this man herself. But before she could speak against the assumption, Schorl spoke up to him.

"I'll have what she's having."

"Okay. That's two usuals on the way."

As the bartender began to prepare their orders, the woman began to look to Schorl with curiosity. In her experience, she's never seen anyone sit beside her. Granted, it may have been that she was too intoxicated to notice. Still, she was quite curious about his resemblance. He did appear to be familiar somehow.

"Are you a regular here?"

"Oh, uh, no. It's my first time here."

"I see. Don't I... know you from somewhere?"

"Not that I know of."

Just then, the bartender got out two mugs of what looked like foaming, dark yellow-colored liquid before he spoke to the two of them.

"There you are. Two mugs of the usual."

As the bartender walked away, Schorl became confused with its appearance as he held the mug in his hand and turned to the woman.

"This is the usual?"

"That's right. You can drink it, but I'll warn you. It's a little strong."

"Now, why would you tell me that?"

As an answer, Schorl took a sip from the woman's usual and began to taste a sparkle in his mouth as his eyes widened. The taste in his mouth was like nothing he'd ever had before. It was almost exactly like pure, melted gold. And if that didn't catch him off-guard, the burning in his throat and the boiling in his stomach from the usual would've done it as he spoke loudly in elation.

"WHOO! That was amazing! What is this stuff?"

The woman was initially caught unawares by his elated cheer, but proceeded to answer him nonetheless.

"That would be alcoholic cider. The strong stuff."

"Really? Well, they can't all be winners."

Schorl then began to take a second drink from his mug of cider as the woman became confused as to his presence.

"So... what brings you here?"

As an answer, Schorl set his drink back down on the counter before turning to her and giving her a blunt look.

"I've, uh... been having a lot of bad days, lately. Especially with those riots. And you?"

"Same here, but, uh... it's more for my situation than yours. What's your name?"

"The name's Schorl. What about you?"

"Willow. Willow Schnee."

Schorl's face widened in surprise to know for himself that the rumors were proven true. Yet, at the same time, it didn't quite bother him. Rich or not, she's no different from other people, at least based on his mindset. So, he gave her a smile as he replied back to her.

"That's a pretty name. Do your friends know you go here?"

"I... don't really have a lot of friends."

"Well, Willow, you've got one now."

Later that same night, Schorl had gotten to know her quite well, just as she got to know him. Willow Schnee was a suffering mother to Weiss, Winter, and Whitley, resigned to the bar for comfort since her husband, Jacques, had revealed that he'd only married her for the family name. He was not any happier than she was about it. He told him that someday, he'd make sure to give Jacques what he deserved. She told him that it'd be the day when it goes, but she'd look forward to that possibility if only to get a better life. By now, he was in front of the door to Robyn's room as he knocked on her door. The voice that responded back sounded a bit dismal.

"Come in."

Schorl felt as though something bad happened to Robyn as he'd opened the door slightly before speaking to her.

"What happened? Is something wrong?"

Hearing his voice, Robyn looked behind her to see Schorl and became surprised while he became confused at the look on her face.

"Robyn? Is something wrong?"

To answer him, Robyn went to Schorl and hugged him, being mindful of his back as her hands were under it.

"I was getting worried about you, you know."

Hearing the response she had to say, Schorl became confused as he tried to confirm it.

"You were?"

"Of course! You know those people are rioting out there with that Dust Embargo! Why didn't you call me?! I thought you were hurt. Or worse..."

"Yeah... that. Sorry I didn't get here sooner, and for failing to call you. See, I was—"

Before he could finish, Robyn gave him a quick kiss in the lips, making him blush at how quickly she made the move before she spoke to him again.

"You don't have to explain. I'm just glad you're okay."

Schorl was caught quite off-guard by Robyn's move on him. But it did feel... nice. In spite of the pain he still felt inside him, this warm feeling made him feel... happy. Though he liked to have more, he didn't feel quite right about leaving out what he'd done as he spoke to her again.

"Well, can I explain anyway?"

"Hmm... maybe after this."

Robyn then began to plant a longer kiss with Schorl on the lips as his arms then began to roam to her back and hold her tight.

The next morning after, the two of them were in bed, Robyn's chest under the cover of the blanket as the two of them looked at the ceiling above them. Looking back on that kiss from last night, Schorl pondered to Robyn about her desire to have a relationship.

"I don't understand. What made you so interested in me like this all of a sudden?"

"Well... I read what you were writing last night."

Hearing this, Schorl began to feel as though he was being judged. But then, why would their whole affair have anything to do with what she read from his excerpt? Cautiously, he inquired her opinion on it.

"And... what do you think?"

There was a small silence between the two for a moment before Robyn replied.

"I think you're right."

"You... agree with me?"

"I do."

"On which part?"

Robyn then gave a small chuckle before she held her hand out to his shoulder and placing it on top of it as she spoke.

"All of it."

From then on, Schorl continued his story as he was now shown to be wearing a red coat with coattails, necessary to hide his back brace and appear natural, as he walked through the street with his cane in hand. It had been another full month since their relationship blossomed into something beautiful. In that time, Robyn began her campaign in Mantle to be the next member of the Council with Barak having taken the second-to-last seat. She is now in the midst of a campaign battle with Jacques Schnee as her opposition. Not that anyone ever liked the guy, but his resources are what allowed Dust to be distributed, so he wasn't all too happy with the Dust Embargo either.

As Schorl noticed his face on the polls, the election being another month away from deadline, he gave a scoff at Jacques as he walked around the city in search of something to commemorate their one-month anniversary. Even with the money they had together, Schorl wanted to save up on their earnings to at a better living. Still, he wanted to give her one subtle gift that's enough to let him know how he felt about her. After a walk-around, Schorl found the answer that'll help show that: a flower shop.

Without hesitation, he went in the shop and took a look around to see which flower would best suit Robyn. The first one he saw was a rose, which was beautiful in its own right, but it was too thorny to handle. Another flower that couldn't take was a sunflower as it was usually cold in Mantle, even in the Spring. Finally, after some searching, Schorl finally found a flower that'd perfectly describe Robyn: a daisy. It's often judged to be delicate, but in reality, it can be so much more in the long run that is the circle of life. Schorl used the money to buy it shortly and walked out with it. Happy as he was to hold the gift in his hand, Schorl took notice of something ahead that jeopardized it greatly.

He'd found himself in the midst of a riot. But this one was much more lethal, throwing rocks of all things at the Holo screens and breaking other windows as well. He knew it concerned the polls, but he didn't know what set them off like that. He could run, but if Robyn should happen to come down that way, she'd end up hurt, or worse. He decided that, with caution, he'd try to reason with them as he held his daisy out, slowly stepped toward them and spoke.

"Uh, excuse me? Can I have your attention?"

The crowd of rioters all turned to see the one who spoke to them. In their eyes, all they saw was someone rich who didn't care about their pain, at least one would assume. That came as unfortunate for Schorl as one among them shouted to him.

"You want our attention?! You got it!"

The rioters all began to chase him down the alley, throwing them at Schorl as he ran. As fate would have it, one of the rocks hit him in the back brace and immediately, he slouched and bent his back before collapsing to the floor. As he writhed in the pain of it all, the rioters became convinced that they dislodged his spine and stopped him from moving as they got closer and closer to him, preparing to stone him while Schorl narrated.

"If you were expecting a happy ending of sorts in the long run, you'd be sadly mistaken. There's none to have in reality. A cruel joke to us at our expense."

The last thing Schorl can see anymore in his situation was one of the rioters stoning him with their rocks before it all went black.

"How do you think the Crooked Man exists?"

As the rain fell on the ground, Schorl's broken body laid there, the blood poring out of his wounds spilled out to a nearby drain, along with a small bell that got crushed by the stones tossed at him and what Schorl tried to give Robyn, a flower now drenched deep in his red blood, only for it to remain unable to go in as the grate's holes were too thin for it to go in. His once live body was now stamped with cuts and bent limbs from the stoning. Amidst the rain, the dead Schorl was paid a visit to by a man with a white coat holding a symbol of a letter M inside a hexagon. His hair was white with a mustache and a beard along with red eyes. The more he gazed at this body, the more he began to take interest as Schorl narrated before the man spoke to himself.

"He walked a crooked mile to find a way to belong with the others and to offer them friendship. But all he got in return was stones thrown at him, and a flower deep in red. Now, they were in hard economic times, but for seemingly no reason at all, they viewed him as a dishonest man who got what he deserved."

"Perhaps Lord Nigreos will have a use for you yet..."

The man then got out a syringe containing a black liquid before inserting it into Schorl's dead body through his wrist. When the injection was done, the liquid traveled throughout his body his veins beginning to blacken before he shot his eyes open in a gasp of fear as his eyes turned from hazel to purple with grey sclerae for a moment as he narrated further.

"Then, with the help of the devil, he rose from death and cursed man with great vengeance. Pretty soon, he made good on his curse and took their scared children."

Lil' Miss Malachite then began to recall something as dreadful as that, though it didn't faze much out of her as she replied.

"I think I remember hearing about something like that. It was all in the papers, wasn't it?"

"Yes. That was him."

This earned a puzzled, yet admittedly frightened look from Lil' Miss Malachite as she tried to speak.

"Oh... is this... Crooked Man who you were thinking about?"

"Well, now, yes. But... I've got someone else in mind..."

Schorl then got out his bloodied daisy that he'd picked up since he'd been changed and began to reminisce about what could've been as a single tear escaped his eye. In that moment, Lil' Miss Malachite noticed a crooked bell by his right hand. It seemed rather harmless for her despite its legend; she didn't really believe in any urban legends. So, she picked it up and gave it a look before Schorl spoke up.

End Lucas King Music: "Hate"

"You'd put that down if you know what's good for you."

"Sorry. You know you should find a better knick-knack then a bell. Especially this one."

While she did as Schorl requested, he picked up the bell and put it inside his pocket to keep it safe before standing up and walking out of the bar as he spoke to her.

"Believe me, I wish I could. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be off. You're in charge until I get back."

While he walked away, Lil' Miss Malachite showed a confused look as to the meaning of that sentence.

"So, what? Is it a keepsake or somethin'?"

To answer, Schorl stopped just as he opened the door before turning to Malachite and speaking to her with a hint of longing in her voice.

"Let's just say you won't want to be around when it rings. It's murder..."

Schorl then proceeded to exit and close the door before walking out in the rain. While he did, his hazel eyes turned into a dark purple shade with grey sclera was he began to chuckle softly with wicked malice in his tone before he spoke to himself, his voice beginning to distort into a monster's.

"Ready or not, Atlas... here comes The Crooked Man."