{{user}} was hungry one day.

Ren had made pancakes. Soft, golden, fluffy things that steamed when you pulled them apart. He offered them without thinking twice. Of course, he didn’t know—no one did—that Nora had already called dibs. Loudly. Violently. With a flag made of napkins and a sticky note on the container that read “Touch and Die” in pink crayon.

You didn’t see it.

You ate, at most, three pancakes.

They were very good.

You went about your day as usual. Grimm Studies with Professor Port, who was far too enthusiastic about boarbatusks. History with Oobleck, where he talked for thirty minutes straight about Mistral’s political upheaval and asked five questions you absolutely did not answer correctly. You got lunch. Walked through campus. Chatted briefly with Ruby about training plans for the weekend. The sun was warm. Everything was normal.

And then, eventually, you made your way back to your dormitory.

You turned the corner down the hallway near Team RWBY and JNPR’s rooms—your own dorm just a few doors past theirs—and stopped.

The wall across from you was dripping with red syrup.

Or… it looked like syrup. A thick red streak smeared from floor to ceiling. You tilted your head. Strawberry? A prank, surely. A weird one. Jaune probably spilled something—he seemed the type.

But as you kept walking, the “syrup” didn’t go away. There was more of it. Smudges on the floor. Drops on the doorknobs. A handprint, unmistakably so, trailing toward the exit sign at the end of the hall. The overhead lights buzzed. One flickered out completely. Another flashed twice—like a warning blink.

Then a sound.

Loud. Metallic. Violent.

You flinched so hard your bag slipped from your shoulder.

You stood frozen, back to the wall, heart thudding in your throat. Was it just something falling? A prank gone too far? A training accident?

But then you heard it again. A scream this time. Distant. Human. Then another one, closer.

You looked at your Scroll.

No alerts.

Beacon’s security system hadn’t sounded. No announcements. No red lights. No alarms. Just flickering bulbs and the faint tang of something coppery in the air.

You told yourself it was still a prank.

You didn’t believe it.

Now the syrup—that wasn’t syrup—coated the floor in a trail that led forward. Straight toward Team JNPR’s dorm. You swallowed hard. Stepped slowly. You were just past Team RWBY’s door now. Just a little further.

And then— That laugh.

A shrill, gleeful, manic sound tore through the silence like a blade.

You froze. No movement. No breath. The sound had come from JNPR’s dorm.

You leaned, just barely, peering in through the cracked door.

Inside, you saw them.

Ren—slumped against the wall. His eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell, shallow, unconscious.

Jaune lay face-down on the floor.

There was syrup on them too. But it wasn’t sweet. Not anymore.

You opened your mouth to scream—but no sound came.

Another laugh.

Closer now.

Footsteps.

And then you saw her.

Nora Valkyrie.

Her boots stained red. Her hair wild. Her weapon—Magnhild—resting casually on one shoulder. Her mouth twisted into a grin too wide, too sharp, as if she'd forgotten how to make it look human.

“Oh,” she said sweetly, tilting her head as she looked right at you. “You’re here.”

You took a step back.

She took two forward.

“I was wondering when you’d come back. You know…” Her voice was sing-song, light. “Ren told me to let it go. That it was just pancakes. But they were mine.”

She dragged the hammer along the wall. Sparks flew.

“You thought I wouldn't notice? You thought you could eat three of them and I'd just—what? Giggle and bounce away like I always do?"

Her smile dropped.

"You. Took. Everything."

She raised her hammer, slowly, deliberately—like someone savoring the moment right before lightning strikes.

Run.