Vorkuta...Had to fight...Just to survive.

On my own...Almost a year.

Given up hope.

But Viktor Reznov found a way.

Viktor Reznov?

My friend.

Vorkuta

"You will break, boy!" An older man, maybe in his late forties, straddled my torso and hit me in the face again. The ring of prisoners cheered and jeered as they watched. Fights were usually the only entertainment in this hell. I grabbed the man's collar, pulled him close and gave him a right hook across his jaw. I managed to push him off me as the guard came into the mine, nightstick at the ready.

He started yelling and raised the stick at me before the old man called out, "Hey - Svoloch!" It earned him a beating. Said beating ended soon as I grabbed a rock, pulled the guard off and brought the stone across his face.

I helped the man up. "Reznov." I regarded him. "Jaune! Well done." He went over to the guard, grabbing his weapon and the ring of iron keys. "Every journey begins with a single step." He told me.

"This is step one!" He raised the keys for all to see and the prisoners answered back to him, "SECURE THE KEYS!"

"Now, we take Vorkuta!" He shouted before we took off up the mineshaft, any guards were seized and taken out by our ever-growing mob.

"Jaune...Jaune?"

"Hmm?" I raised my head from my desk to see Glynda Goodwitch. I wasn't sure how she'd gotten into my room, but I was too tired to care. "Did you sleep here all night?" She asked. I shrugged. My nights kind of went by in a blur and usually consisted of me sleeping and waking up due to night terrors.

"Well, get ready soon. Today's your first day." She said before heading to my door.

"Of what?" I asked, groggy and confused.

"School." She answered before exiting and shutting the door. I sat there a moment, processing the less-than-twenty words she'd just said. "Shit." I cursed. I got up and went over to the small dresser, running a hand through my shaggy, blonde hair. It was almost long enough to touch my shoulders.

I put on a black jacket with tan fur on the inside and two orange stripes wrapped around each bicep. under that I had an orange shirt with a dark silhouette of an X, black jeans and dark brown knuckle gloves. Then I realized I hadn't showered yet and at that point I just debated going back to my bed and sleeping forever.

Nevertheless, I undressed, showered, redressed and headed out while plugging my headphones into my scroll and slipping them onto my head.

Before I left, I realized that I hadn't grabbed my dog-tags. They were given to prisoners and used as a form of identification.

I let the soothing sound of violin and piano riffs relax me, I closed my eyes and tried to forget about Beacon or Vorkuta or... Tyrian Karich.

The crazy bastard that dragged me to the darkest pit of hell and drilled into my mind, tried to break me. I swore to myself and all my brothers in Vorkuta that I'd find him and look in his eyes as I killed him.

Karich, Hazel, Watts...all must die.

My head started pounding as I leaned against the wall, pushing my headphones off and letting them hang around my neck.

"Brothers...all of us...soldiers without a kingdom." I muttered. I shook my head and tried to calm my nerves. Now wasn't the time for another episode. I made it down to the locker room and found my-you guessed it!-locker. I made sure my weapons were in good condition. They were, since the only things I had to do around here was practice, read or wander around the grounds.

My weapon of choice was a KS-23 pump action, 6.27 gauge shotgun that I'd had on me from the prison break. I'd made some improvements, however, so the metal was now colored white and the wood stock and pump was replaced with a yellow plastic/rubber material. The last feature was that It could now mecha-shift into a short sword that I'd named Crocea Mors. Along with that I'd crafted a metal shield that doubled as a sheathe.

Not knowing what to expect on my first day of school, I fished the Browning that I used as a sidearm out of my locker. I liked the handgun for it's reliability and relatively simple design. Although, I still had the AK-47 and Makarov PM from Vorkuta in my room. I sat horizontal on a metal bench and laid a dry oilcloth down.

Next, I removed the loaded magazine and the slide before I heard a noise. I looked up, scanning the room before returning to my maintenance. Then I heard it again.

Quickly, I reassembled my pistol and chambered the first round. I stood and raised the gun in the direction of the sound, but heard the shuffling of feet behind me. I spun on my heel and leveled the pistol at the door. "Who's there?" I called out. I heard it again, but they were slower. More defined.

"Prisoner 6362017, also known as Jaune Arc..."

No.

"It certainly has been a while, hasn't it Jaune-"

I turned to Tyrian Karich's smug, insane face and pulled the trigger. I saw the bullet hit his right eye before the flash was too bright and forced me to close my eyes. When I opened them, the body was gone.

No Tyrian, no corpse, no blood. "Well, that wasn't very nice. Why don't you put the gun down and we'll go back home, Jaune." I turned and saw him again. "No!" I yelled as I shot him twice in the chest. But the body just vanished again. I looked around for the psychopath. "I don't take orders from you!"

I saw him prance through a corridor to my left. I fired, but the bullet hit the wall. I backed up until I tripped over the bench, my finger slipping over the trigger and sending a bullet into the linoleum ceiling.

I fell and hit my head. When I opened my eyes, Tyrian was gone, my gun empty and on the floor. Although, I did hear more footsteps. The clicking of high heels, to be exact.

Glynda walked into my peripheral, something between concern and a glare present on her face. "What time is it?" I asked.

"Noon."

"I see." There was a beat of silence.

"Care to tell me why you're on the floor, Jaune?"

I hesitated. "Promise you won't get mad?"

"Of course I absolutely will not." She said sharply before hoisting me to my feet.

How many episodes does that make this month, Jaune? I thought to myself as I sat in the infirmary. Dr. Laura Kitsune-she'd made it clear that addressing her as a school nurse would earn someone several tetanus shots to the abdomen-kept tapping my knee with one of those tiny hammers.

I was dressed in a hospital gown that didn't even touch my knees, she claimed that the cloth had been repurposed for bandaging my head.

"Yep, your knees are still strong. Strong, hard, bone structure surrounded by tight muscle fibers..." Her eyes began to glaze over as Laura's gaze crept from my knee to...Northern regions.

On the sixth tap to the same knee, I cleared my throat. She startled out of her daze and stood upright. "You've got a clean bill of health, Jaune. Well, physically speaking. A phsyc-analysis is well above my pay grade." She leaned in and whispered to me, "Although, we could do something...off the record." Professor Ozpin, who'd been standing by the door the whole time, cleared his throat. "If we're all done here, Doctor, I'd like to speak to Jaune alone."

"Wouldn't we all." She muttered before turning and walking out, her fox tail swishing and sliding over my lap slowly.

I turned my attention to Ozpin as his gaze grew worried. "What?" I asked, "She's only, like, a year older than me."

"That's not what I wanted to talk about, Jaune. I wanted to know why there are several holes in my locker room-"

"Okay, first off, the one in the bathroom stall has been there since before I arrived."

Ozpin waited a second, "Are you finished?" He asked. "Hold on..." I said, "Shit, I had something about glory holes and schools."

"I wanted to know why there are several bullet holes and why you somehow slipped on a floor that hasn't been waxed since the Great War." He snapped.

That makes one episode this month, Jaune. Congratulations, you've cut your usual rate in half. I thought bitterly. "I saw him again. I saw Tyrian." I stared at the ground, hearing Ozpin sigh. "I figured as much."

"Then why'd you ask?" I started getting my clothes back on. "Your hallucinations haven't been this...consequential in a while. What do you want to do about it?" He questioned.

I shrugged. "What can I do? Hope it goes away and I don't get someone else killed?"

"There's always the medication-"

"I'm not doing that." I said to him angrily. "I didn't come here to get doped up and thrown into a padded room."

"That's not what I was going to say."

"Then what is it, Ozpin? You wanna have the General question me again?" Ozpin's face fell. I knew that that was a low blow, but I didn't care. He didn't get my situation. He didn't know what it was like in Russia. And yet...

He had gotten me to Beacon, kept a roof over my head and food in my stomach. And here I was throwing a hissy fit. I sighed and leaned back against the wall, sliding down until I sat with my knees against my chest. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Jaune. I can't imagine what you went through in the past. But despite all that, you escaped and made it out. You're stronger than you think. When Qrow and I found you in Atlas, we didn't believe what we heard. A lone boy escaping supposedly the most secure prison in the most secretive kingdom on Remnant, only to go back to be some kind of spy was...unfathomable."

I looked at the underside of my right forearm. There, in black characters, was my prison ID number. 6362017.

I managed a small, sad smile. "I didn't escape alone." I reminded him. I looked up to see Ozpin's hand stretched out to me. I took it and rose. "You should get ready. The new students will be arriving within the hour.

Hello readers!

I got a new story here to kill time while I write my Far Cry and TES ones.

Reviews are much appreciated as is checking out my other stories.

Adios!

-Fireballmonkey