Sylvie Oster pushed open the doors of her university, wearing her pink Nikes and red sweatshirt and comfortable, black sweat-pants.
She plugged her ear-buds into her ears and clicked "play" on her iPod. "Sweet Dreams", by the Eurythmics, began to play and rattle her ears a bit and she took off in a light jog onto her favorite running-trail, Sweetbriar Trail, which ran through the woods. Talon Creek was where she usually jogged every morning.
As she was jogging on a slight bend in the trail, she noticed a little glass figurine with its arms outstretched just standing on a fallen tree. She stopped jogging and turned around. She glanced around to see if maybe anybody was around who could've left it, but she didn't see anybody.
Sylvia picked up the figurine and examined it closely. It was a little girl with a prettily painted glass face and a little handkerchief tied around her head. It was a pretty little doll-figure, and Sylvia thought it was a shame for someone to have left it.
But that's what made her wonder. Who would leave such a pretty little figure so neatly set upon a log on a trail in the woods? Before she had time to answer her own question, something, or someone, tackled her to the ground, causing her iPod and the figurine to fly from her grasp. She barely had time to think, or even catch a glimpse of her attacker before it tore its vicious teeth into her, and tore her limb from limb, silencing her echoing screams.
Her attacker, whatever it had been, left her remains behind and "Sweet Dreams" continued to play on her iPod as though nothing had happened. But to a song, nothing really did happen.
Nick exited the jewelry store, holding up his newly-bought engagement ring for his partner and close friend, Hank Griffin, to see, and as soon as he noticed Hank had a camera, a smile broke out on his face.
"Hank-what're you doing?" He asked as Hank quickly snapped the picture.
"Testing out the new equipment and getting a picture of you while you're still young and innocent," Hank said, smiling.
"Ah-well, I am getting married once, not four times," Nick teased.
"Oh, you're a happily-ever-after guy," Hank acknowledged as he opened the door for Nick.
"Yeah," Nick replied thoroughly. They both turned at the sound of a laugh and watched a pretty blonde with a cup of coffee in her hand walk to her car as her brunette friend left her alone.
"Detective, what are you looking at? You just bought a ring," Hank said to Nick teasingly, noticing how absorbed he was by the woman.
"That's not what I'm looking at," Nick reassured Hank.
"C'mon, don't ruin it for me-" Hank pleaded.
"She wears Armani, makes low six figures, drives a BMW, and is falling for her senior partner at her law firm. Nothing but trouble Hank," Nick listed to Hank with a sly smirk.
"Why can't you just look at her ass like the rest of us?!" Hank cried, walking over to get in the driver's side of the car. Nick smirk widened and he said simply,
"I can't."
"C'mon, Nick, we have a call," Hank murmured. Nick looked back over to the woman, and she smiled openly at him, then all of a sudden, Nick saw her face transform right before his very eyes, from pretty to hideous. Her shining blond hair turned a dull shade of silvery-gray, and her once-perfect teeth became crooked and rotten, just like the new beige-color flesh of her face. Her eyes were black, empty-like sockets, and the flesh of her lips were pale and torn. She looked like a zombie from a horror movie.
Nick's smile faded instantly, and a wave of confusion, shock, and alarm rushed over him. He didn't say a word, but then, stranger still, the woman's face, if she was even a woman or human at all, transformed back into its regular form.
Nick blinked and shifted, bewildered, and the woman's smile had faded and she hurried away, with Nick still pondering over what had happened.
"A hiker flagged me down. He came through the ravines, 'said he saw something pretty bad. I didn't know what he was talking about-until he showed me this-" A ranger, seemingly head ranger, explained to Nick and Hank, and he pointed ahead of them to the human limbs which lay sprawled about the area. Nick crouched down to examine a fly-swarmed, torn and bloody arm, and the ranger said,
"The rest of her is off trail." Nick turned and glanced at him, and then they went to go see the "rest of her". A bird croaked nearby as they headed off-trail, and then they came to an area in which the remains of red cloth, presumably a jacket or sweater of some kind, were torn and scattered everywhere. Nick put his hands on his waist and glanced around uneasily.
"How do you know it's a her?" he asked the ranger.
"Because of this-" The ranger replied, revealing a pair of shredded, pink Nikes.
"Women's Nikes." Hank murmured in a soft, sad tone.
"What kind of animal could do this?" Nick asked.
"Normally, we'd be able to tell by the tracks. Bear, cougar, wolf," the ranger listed.
"Which one is it?" Hank asked.
"That's where this gets interesting," the ranger murmured. He pulled back a small bush to reveal a boot-print imprinted in the soft mud.
"This is the only track we found," he told them.
"Hey we got a boot-print down here, where're gonna need a CAT!" Nick called out.
"Right away!" an officer replied back, and Nick and Hank turned back to the ranger.
"DEA will tell us if this is your case or ours," Hank told the ranger, who nodded simply in response, and he and Nick turned and walked further up.
"Sounds like what happened a month ago at Munson Creek Falls," Nick grumbled to Hank.
"Same deal, hiker and a bobcat," Hank said.
"'Bobcat wasn't wearing boots." Nick muttered, at loss for a solution to the mystery. Nick stopped abruptly, and said,
"You hear something?"
"What?" Hank asked.
"Music," Nick replied after pausing and listening for a second. He went to his right, following the faint sound of music. They stepped under a string of police tape, and Nick's eyes fell upon an iPod, which rested in the dirt. He tried to make-out what it said, and cocked his head to one side and said,
"Hank, we got an iPod over here," he said as he crouched down, still trying to make-out the title of the song.
"What's that song?" Hank asked, as he, too, squatted next to Nick, trying to recall the title of the familiar song.
"Sweet Dreams," Nick replied, finally able to read the title on the screen.
"Eurythmics!" Hank said, tapping Nick lightly on the arm and smiling. "One of their better. "Sweet dreams, are made of this-who am I-to disagree.'" Hank sang in a very off-key tone. Nick glanced at him and smiled,
"I didn't know you couldn't sing," he teased and clapped Hank on the arm and stood up, and Hank followed.
Nick and Hank walked into the Precinct at a fast, yet steady, pace, and Nick said,
"Until we get the DNA results, I'll run a database on violent predators in the area."
"Better search beyond the metro," Hank advised him as they hopped up the stairs.
"Absolutely," Nick replied.
"We should also take another look at that Munson Creek Falls attack," he added.
"You'll be busy. I'll take the iPod down for prints. Back in a minute," Hank told him, and he turned the corner, leaving Nick walking through the Precinct by himself. He glanced over at a man in handcuffs, either a suspect or a criminal, who sat across from two other men at a desk, with a shaved head and gauges in his earlobes. He watched Nick solemnly and then, just as that pretty blond lady Nick had seen earlier had done, the guy transformed before his eyes, but not nearly as ugly as the woman had become. His mouth formed a hostile grin and his long, slim tongue flickered out, quite like a snake or lizard's tongue. Nick blinked, clearly taken aback, but then he ran smack into Sergeant Wu, who sarcastically muttered,
"Oh! Sorry Nick. Guess I should've worn my airbag today," as he walked off with a file in his hand. Nick didn't comment, but he glanced once more at the guy, who had quickly turned his head away from Nick, and then Nick turned and left.
Marie Burkhardt drove her trailer down her nephew's street, glancing around for his house.
This one, if I can remember correctly.
She pulled into the driveway of her nephew and his girlfriend's nice, two-story house. She took a deep breath and got out of the car, slamming the door shut, and hobbled on her wooden cane to the door. She glanced in the door windows and then knocked.
****
"We've got twenty-three known predators within five square miles of the crime scene; none of them rise to the kind of violence we saw out there this morning," Nick told Hank, who was on the phone, tossing a file on his desk.
"Just got a hit on a missing person. University student went out jogging this morning and never came back," Hank said solemnly.
****
A group of University girls jogged by as Nick and Hank questioned Sylvie Oster's roommate, Jenny Lee.
"She left at 7:30 this morning, and I'm a little freaked out because she's always back by 8:30," the student told them, rubbing her right arm nervously.
"Do you have a photo of her?" Nick asked.
"On my iPhone," Jenny replied.
"Do you know what kind of running shoes she was wearing?" Hank asked.
"Uh, pink Nikes," she said as Nick looked at the picture of two girls on the student's phone; the victim and Jenny herself.
****
Back at the Precinct, Hank pulled up a file of Sylvia Oster on his computer with Nick leaning on the desk next to him. Sylvia was a pretty girl, with big, pink lips, and wide blue eyes; her smile was warm and friendly, and her face was framed cutely by her reddish-brown hair.
"Hard to believe that's the girl we saw this morning," Nick said.
"Sylvia Oster, positive ID," Hank muttered.
"At least we know who she is. Man, what a way to go," Nick murmured sincerely.
"Yeah, I just hope it happened fast. Man, let's get the hell out of here," Hank said suddenly.
"Yeah," Nick agreed, grabbing his coat. An engagement ring fell from it and onto a pile of papers. Hank picked it up and looked at it for a second.
"Big night," he said, and tossed it at Nick. "Don't blow it, Romeo," he teased as Nick caught it. Hank chuckled and Nick held the ring up as he turned as if to say "thanks, I got it", then he turned and left the Precinct.
Nick pulled up in front of his house and got out of his car. A nearby dog barked and whined, and Nick glanced around uneasily before going inside.
"Juliette?" Nick called as he walked in the door; the lights were off. He closed the door and walked slowly, the wood floor creaking under his feet and a grandfather clock ticking from the living room. He pushed open the kitchen door a crack and saw a woman with a bald head sitting at the table chopping tomatoes. The woman turned and Nick felt relief wash over him.
"Aunt Marie!" he said, a grin breaking out on his face. His aunt smiled at him and he took off his coat.
"When did you get here?" he asked.
"Hey," Juliette said cheerfully from behind him, checking the label on a bottle of wine. "She was here when I got home."
"Sorry for the short notice," Aunt Marie said apologetically.
"What, you didn't know she was coming?" Juliette asked Nick as she fixed her earring.
"I meant to call," Aunt Marie said with a small apologetic sigh. "Sometimes I mean to do something, and I assume I usually have."
"Well how you doing, is everything ok?" Nick asked her.
"Not as ok as I used to be," she replied with a smile that seemed a little less amused as it had a second ago.
"She was telling me about some pretty funny stories about you when you were little," Juliette said as she dried a wine glass.
"Dead frog in the microwave?" Nick guessed, smiling at the memory.
"Among others," Juliette added with a teasing grin. Aunt Marie gave a small chuckle and stood up, outstretching her arms.
"Come and give us a hug," she said invitingly. Nick smiled and hugged her, her familiar sent flooding his nose. Being around Aunt Marie always comforted him.
"We need to talk," Aunt Marie whispered into his ear, all signs of amusement gone. Nick's smile faded and he stood back and looked into her eyes, worried and slightly confused.
"How bad is it?" Nick asked his aunt as they walked along the sidewalk down the street.
"Two months, two weeks, two days; nobody knows. But there are so many things I have to tell you," she said seriously.
"Why didn't you come here sooner?" Nick asked, a little peeved.
"I couldn't."
"Why?"
"Just listen to me. There are things you don't know; things about your family," Aunt Marie said, turning to face him. Her breath came out in short, small gasps.
"My family?" Nick said, raising his eyebrows. Aunt Marie nodded.
"You're my family," Nick said.
"Have you been seeing strange things? Things that you can't explain?" Aunt Marie asked him. Nick blinked and closed his mouth and looked away, unable to answer.
"Uh, I knew it," Aunt Marie sighed. "This is all happening so much faster than I thought it would. When it happened to me, it knocked me on my ass, I couldn't move for a week."
"What are you talking about?" Nick asked, confused.
"The misfortune of our family is already passing to you. I'm so sorry. I know you love Juliette. But you have to end it and never see her again," she said. Nick looked at his aunt like she was going crazy, and he was afraid she might be. "It's just too dangerous."
"What?" Nick was totally lost now; he had absolutely no idea what his aunt was trying to tell him. Before Aunt Marie could answer, she glanced over Nick's shoulder and saw a green car parked on the corner of the street.
"Oh my God," she breathed. "He's here."
"Who?" Nick asked. He looked over his shoulder, but saw no one. Aunt Marie pulled out a knife she kept with her, and whispered, "Hulda."
A man, or some sort of creature, jumped out, holding a scythe and wearing a black leather jacket. It's face was a sickly greenish color and it's mouth held sharp, crooked and rotting teeth. It, Hulda, swung his scythe at her, and she ducked and held her knife up to his scythe, forming a cross. He kicked Aunt Marie in the stomach, causing her to stumble backwards, then it turned to Nick, punching him in the gut.
Nick managed to tackled him to the ground, but he got up before Nick did and slashed him across the cheek. Aunt Marie stood up and stabbed him in the back. He roared in agony and turned and punched her across the face, knocking her onto the ground. He raised his scythe and was about to bring it down across her throat and decapitate her, but a gunshot rang out and he felt a bullet catch him in the back. He turned around and Nick was lying on the ground, gun raised and ready to fire again. Hulda raised his scythe and Nick fired again. He buckled in pain from the bullet, and Nick fired a third time. Then a fourth. Then a fifth. He fired a total of nine shots before Hulda finally collapsed on the pavement beside him.
Nick panted breathlessly, overwhelmed with shock, as he stared at Hulda, who now lay dead on the ground. He still had his gun pointed to him, and right before his eye's, Hulda's face went from an ugly, hideous creature to a human. Just like that woman's face when he left the jewelry store with the engagement ring he'd bought.
Nick scrambled to his feet and put his gun in it's holster and quickly ran to his aunt's side. He crouched beside her and rolled her onto her back. Blood was running down her nose and her breath seemed shorter than before.
"Did you kill him?" she asked weakly.
"Yes," Nick assured her.
"I thought I lost him," she breathed. "They're after me." She ripped a necklace off from her neck and handed it to Nick. "Never lose this," she told him. She placed it in Nick's hand and Nick took it. "Guard it with you life. They'll be looking for it." Nick stared at the thing at that dangled on the chain, a little angry at all the confusion. "Nick," Aunt Marie paused, her breath growing shorter and shorter. "Your parents didn't die in a car crash. They were killed." Aunt Marie's head fell to the side, unconscious.
"What?" Nick asked in a whisper, but to no one, really.
****
Police offers showed up and began taking pictures and sniffing out the scene.
"I didn't see what happened, I just heard gunshots and called 911," Juliette told an officer who held a pen and a notepad in his hands.
"It happened so fast. He came out of no where. He had that thing in his hand, and he went right for her Hank," Nick spoke as Aunt Marie was carried into the back off an ambulance on a stretcher. "I had no choice."
"Take it easy," Hank told him calmly. "You go to the hospital, I'll handle this."
"She said she knew him and his name is Hulda,"
"I'll run his prints," Hank promised and he walked away just as Juliette walked up to Nick.
"Want me to come with you?" she asked quietly.
"No," Nick said. "I'll be home as soon as I can."
"Ok. Love you," Juliette told him as he turned and hopped into the back of the ambulance to be by his aunt's side. Juliette rubbed her hands together and went back inside, locking all of the doors.
Nick sat inside the hospital, sketching a picture of Hulda in his small, black sketchbook. Angrily and unsatisfied with the drawing, he ripped it out of the book. A tall, black nurse with short, curly hair, named Dr. Rose, approached him.
"Mr. Burkhardt?" she said. Nick looked up at her hopefully.
"She's conscious now," Dr. Rose told him, smiling a bit over the fact that she was carrying good news. Nick followed her to his aunt's room and walked in slowly. She was hooked up to all sorts of tube and wires and didn't look well at all.
"You saw him, didn't you?" she said as he grabbed her hand. "You saw who Hulda really was."
"I don't know what I saw. Or how you did that. What's going on?" Nick demanded.
"We have the ability to see what no one else can," Aunt Marie said slowly. "When they lose control, they can't hide, and we see them for what they really are."
"Look, you need some rest," Nick said, not wanting to encourage this nonsense his aunt was talking about.
"This is no stories are real. What they wrote about really happened. You are one of the last Grimms. I know it's a lot, and I wish I had more time; everything's in my trailer. Sweetie, there's still so much you don't know."
"Look, what you said about my parents?" Nick said.
"You're vulnerable now. You need to be very careful. Don't ever lose what I gave you," she warned him.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Burkhardt. You can see her again tomorrow," Dr. Rose said. Aunt Marie gave him a small, kind of melancholy smile, as thought she were dismissing him. He left and in the hallway of the hospital, he took out the tarnished silver thing and toyed with it. It seemed to be some kind of key or something.
But a key for what?
Nick sat at his desk at the Precinct, turning the scythe Hulda had used over in his hands, reading the strange writing. The lights were mostly off throughout the Precinct. Memories of earlier that day flashed through his mind; Hulda, the criminal in handcuffs that had turned into some sort of lizard.
"Hey, Nick," Hank said, putting his hand on Nick's shoulder and startling him a bit. "You get that translated?" he asked.
"Yeah," Nick said heavily. "It means "Reapers of the Grimms"." Hank jutted out his lower lip with a slight shrug.
"That fits your buddy Hulda," he said. "Wait'll you hear what I got on him."
****
Nick and Hank walked side by side as Hank explained some of Hulda's background.
"Hulda was from Boise, Idaho where he worked as an accountant-but his prints came back as a Mr. Lindo from Chicago, wanted for assault, rape, and murder. There's also warrants matching those prints in Florida and Alabama."
"He was wanted for assault, rape and murder?" Nick asked after letting that sink in, feeling a tight knot forming in his stomach.
"Don't let the comb-over through you, this was a bad guy," Hank told him. Sergeant Wu climbed up the stairs as they were going down and stopped to swat Nick on the shoulder with the file that was in his hand.
"Hey, Nick-Captain wants to see you," he told Nick, and he carried on up the stairs. Nick took a deep and slightly annoyed breath and put his hands on his hips.
"Whats' he want?" Nick asked Hank, who gave him a sly grin as he looked over Nick's shoulder quickly.
"Guess you'll find out," he replied and turned away. Nick turned to see what he was looking at and saw the Captain walking towards him with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
"If you had to shoot somebody, you sure picked the right guy," the Captain told him. "How you doing?" he asked, stopping short in front of Nick. "You holding up?"
"Yes Sir," Nick nodded.
"The first shooting is no small thing. You'll be required to see the police psychologist."
"Yes Sir."
"Make sure you do," the Captain told him after a second of studying Nick. "Get some rest."
****
A woman in a red, silk dress frantically ran through the woods, dodging through trees. Her red hair danced wildly behind her as she ran. She was running straight to him, and she turned her head and Nick saw it was Juliette, and Hulda appeared behind her, roaring like a wild animal, about to attack her.
Nick sat up straight in his bed, breathing hard. He got out of bed and walked to the window and looked down at his aunt's trailer. He put on a coat and some shoes and grabbed a flashlight and went downstairs into the trailer. He cautiously waved his flashlight beam around the dark trailer and took the key out of his pocket. He rubbed his thumb over it carefully then pocketed it again and looked around.
The floor creaked under his feet as he walked around, and he noticed a closet to his right and opened it. Inside the closet were dozens of strange, medieval looking weapons.
Why would Aunt Marie have all of this crazy stuff?
He closed the closet, suddenly wondering is maybe his aunt wasn't really a librarian. He sat down at the small desk in the middle of the trailer where a book was sitting opened. He flipped through the pages, looking at all of the strange pictures and writing. There was some strange bird creature, with a long, sharp, hooked beak. He flipped the page and saw a hideous creature with strands of wispy hairs, an obscure, crooked mouth and disturbing eyes. It was labeled as Hexenbiest. Nick remembered that girl he'd seen, the pretty blonde girl, and remembered how she'd looked exactly like this Hexenbiest when she'd looked at him. He turned the page and heard a floorboard creak and he jumped and aimed the flashlight and saw Juliette standing in a nightgown and robe, covering her eyes from the flashlight. He breathed a sigh of relief and hadn't realized how jumpy he'd been until now.
"How long have you been down here?" Juliette asked him. Nick shrugged and closed the book.
"Uh, I couldn't sleep," he said a little winded.
"What is all this?" Juliette asked curiously as she peered around the trailer in awe.
"I don't know," Nick said quickly. "I'll deal with it later. I'm sorry, let's go back to bed," he said, leading Juliette out of the trailer. He closed the trailer door behind him and Juliette asked,
"How long did you live with Marie?"
"She was my mother since the time I was twelve," he told her.
"After your parents died?"
"Yeah."
"You didn't live in that trailer, did you?" Juliette asked.
"I didn't know she had it," he said with a hint of anger in his voice. A cat meowed and Nick turned, alarmed. He glanced around and Juliette smiled a bit.
"I think it was just a cat," she said, and she went inside. Nick raised his flashlight, but saw nothing and went inside after her.
"Yeah," he said finally.
Of course it's just a cat; what else could it be?
He went inside and didn't hear that innocent cat meow turn into low, vicious growl.
****
"This is what we're looking for," Hank said through his cell-phone. "If this is an exact match of the boot prints, it's going to be very helpful. Thanks," he said, hanging up the phone as Nick came along.
"Take a look at the lab report; DNA of the attacker is inconclusive. Still don't know if we're looking for a man or a beast," Nick told him, frustrated.
"Well we got a lead if it wears boots. Based on the plaster cast, this is the boot we're looking for," Hank said, and he showed Nick a picture of some yellow hiking boots.
A postman walked down the same street he walked down every day; it was part of his daily routine. He opened the white mailbox to 7122 and slipped the mail inside. Bills, letters, magazines and all. He closed the mailbox and continued on his way as a happy little girl with brown hair and a red jacket skipped by with a pink backpack strapped to her back. He stopped and turned and followed the little girl.
"She's in a deep coma," Dr. Rose told Nick as they walked to Aunt Marie's room. "There was a sudden spike in the EKG this morning, but I have nothing definitive to tell you yet."
"Will she come out of this?" Nick asked.
"All we can do is wait... Did you know about the scars?"
"What scars?" Nick asked, frowning.
"A lot of them look like knife wounds. They're all over her body. What line of work was she in?"
"She was a librarian," Nick replied, knowing now that she was not just a librarian. If she was a librarian at all, that is. His phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket.
"Yeah?" he said. "On my way." He turned and jogged out of the hospital and to his car.
A despaired woman stood on her porch with her father's arms wrapped around her.
"I-I don't understand. She was supposed to go straight there from school," she told Sergeant Wu and another officer. There were several police cars parked outside her house, all of them searching for any sign of the woman's daughter.
"She never showed up, I looked all over the neighborhood then I came right here," the girl's grandfather, and the woman's father, explained. Sergeant Wu left them with the other officer and climbed down the steps to Nick and Hank, who just showed up.
"What do we know?" Hank asked him.
"Little girl on her way to her grandfather's house never showed up. That's him," Sergeant Wu said, jerking his head towards the man. "The man with the beard."
"Do we know he's clean?" Nick asked, looking at the man.
"No," Wu said. "We're looking into that." He pulled out of picture of a little girl and showed it to both of them. "Best photo they had." It was a photo of a sweet little girl with brown hair, brown eyes, and a pretty sun dress. An innocent little girl.
"We don't know what we got here. Relative, ransom, or pedophile and the clock is ticking. We're going to split into team, section off the path she would've taken from school." Captain Renard stood in front of a projector with a picture of the little girl and he clicked the remote to the next slide, which was a map of where the girl would've walked.
"It's about a mile and a half from the school to the house. When last seen she was wearing purple leggings and a red sweatshirt." Nick turned to Hank and gave him a look and the Captain continued, "Make sure you have a copy of the photo and the map. You all know your sections so-let's get out there and find her." The officers dispersed to take care of business, but Nick and Hank stayed behind. When the Captain turned off the projector, Nick came up to him.
"Captain," he said.
"Yeah?"
"When that University student was attacked, she was wearing a red sweatshirt," Nick told him.
"The girl that was torn to pieces?"
"Yeah," Hank said.
"Well let's hope it's not the same guy," the Captain said.
A mail truck whizzed by as Nick and Hank walked through the neighborhood.
"She's supposed to cross Hunter Lane right there, and then go around the park to Hildebrand," Nick said, pointing to Hunter Lane.
"The old man's house is on the other side of the park, right?" Hank asked.
"Right. 4753 Hildebrand road, directly across from here."
"When I was a kid, I wouldn't have gone all the way around the park," Hank pointed out.
"Well the mother was very specific about the route."
"Yeah, right, kids always do what their moms tell 'em to do. I know I did," Hank said with a grin. "C'mon Nick," he said, turning into a trail that led into the park. They walked over branches and ferns and then came to a split in the trail.
"I'll take this trail," Nick said, going down Hollyberry Trail. Hank went the other way and walked cautiously with every step. Nick heard a twig snap and then heard his aunt's words in his mind.
"You need to be careful. You're vulnerable now." Another twig snapped. "This isn't a fairy tale."
Hank walked slower and slower, examining each inch closely. He noticed something purple hidden behind a small fern. He froze and yelled,
"Nick, I got something here!" Nick stopped and looked around and went to find Hank. Hank bent over the fern and pushed the leaves out of the way. It was a purple backpack with some pink and orange circles decorating a small portion of the front pocket. The initials R H were written in sharpie on the front of it. Nick came jogging up behind him and looked at the backpack.
"Robin Howell," Hank said, glancing up at him.
"She must've been grabbed somewhere in this area," Nick concluded, looking around anxiously.
"Be careful where you step," Hank warned. He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed the Precinct. "We got a crime scene at Korbes Park," he said into the phone. "Yeah, on Hildebrand," he said as Nick looked around the area. He noticed a small puddle in the mud and moved a weak branch aside; a bootprint.
"Hank, we got boot prints over here, same kind! He took her this way," Nick panted, following the trail of boot prints. He jogged through the small trees and pushed branches out of the way until he broke through some hedges and came to the edge of the park, directly across from a house with a pale yellow bug sitting in the driveway. He glanced around and noticed the man that owned the bug walking down the pathway from his front door and to his mailbox. He was wearing a grey sweater and blue jeans; and boots, Nick noticed.
The man opened his mailbox and took out his mail and stopped and turned slowly as two kids on bicycles rode by, a little girl and a little boy, and the girl rang her bell. The man's shoulders hunched over and his face changed. His ears became long and pointed and his eyebrows thickened. His teeth became crooked and sharper, his eyes red, and his hair standing up and appearing more gruff and unkempt. He resembled some kind of wolf and he seemed to be sniffing the air. He turned and noticed Nick watching him and growled.
"Hank, I got him!" Nick yelled as he shimmied down the small slope of the trail. The man's face returned back to normal and he quickly turned and ran back into his house. Nick ran after him and caught him just before he closed the door and tackled him onto his staircase, which was right in front of the door.
"Where is she?!" Nick demanded, holding the man by his sweater. "Where is she?!" he barked again.
****
Minutes later, cops were surrounding the man's house, searching it thoroughly.
"Look, I know she's in here somewhere," Nick told Hank determinedly.
"You got another place to look, we'll look," Sergeant Wu told him, annoyed. "But we've torn this place apart." Hank pulled Nick outside onto the porch and asked,
"What are we doing here?"
"If she's not in there, he's got her someplace else," Nick assured him.
"What do you see in this guy we don't?" Hank asked him, curious for an answer. Nick glanced at the man sitting in the back of a police car.
"He's got no priors, he's clean," Hank said, wondering why Nick was so determined to prove that this guy was the guy.
"He fits the profile; he's a loner, never been married, he lives across the street from the park!" Nick exclaimed. Hank shook his head at his partner.
"That's not going to get him into a court unless he sues our ass," he said. He looked at Nick for another second, disapprovingly, then went back inside. Nick turned and looked back at the guy again, who this time returned his look before Nick, too, went back inside.
A full moon shone brightly over the neighborhood. Juliette watched from her window as Nick's flashlight waved about in the trailer. Nick anxiously looked through his aunt's book, trying desperately to find what he'd seen. Finally, he came to a page that had a picture of the same creature as that man had turned into. Blutbad was what it was labeled as.
Nick stood just outside the man's house, watching him through his window. He had round spectacles on the bridge of his nose and was working on something with the desk-light on and giving him plenty of light. Nick's phone rang and he took it out and glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was Juliette calling him. He saw the man coming out of his house and declined Juliette's call and snuck around the side of the man's house, coming the opposite way the guy was going. He peered around the corner of the house and watched the man pee all over his fence. The man sniffed the air for a second, then quickly zipped up his fly and went inside. The lights went out and Nick ducked beneath the windows ad began to creep around the other way when the man flew out of the window and tackled Nick to the ground. He lifted
Nick off the ground and threw him against the wall.
"You shouldn't have come back," he growled, in that wolf-like state again. Nick fumbled for his gun and the man held up his hand for him to lay off.
"Ok, ok, ok!" he said quickly, changing back to normal. "Lighten up, I'm just making a point. C'mon," he said, jerking his head towards his house. "Let's grab a brew. And by the way, you're paying for that window." He turned and walked back inside, expected Nick to follow. Nick leaned against the wall for another second, breathing hard and a little shocked before following the man inside.
"You know I've never seen one of you before?" Eddie Monroe told Nick as he handed him a beer. "Heard about you guys all my life, never thought I'd see one up close." he said as he leaned in to get a good look at Nick's face. "A Grimm. Huh. What do you know!" he mused, taking a sip of his own beer.
"You know about me?" Nick asked, puzzled.
"Are you kidding? My folks used to tell me stories about you guys! Scared the hell out of me when I was a kid!" he exclaimed. He raised an eyebrow at Nick questioningly. "How long you been at this, you seem kind of new?"
"Who are you?" Nick asked, ignoring his question.
"Wow, you are new at this, what, someone in your family just die?" he asked, sipping his beer again.
"My aunt's in a coma."
"Ahhh, that explains it," he said with a nod. "What's her name?"
"Marie Kessler." Monroe gave Nick a long stare, trying to keep his mouth from gaping open like a cave.
"Oh yeah. I 'heard of her," he muttered morbidly. "Look, I don't want any trouble. Ok? I'm not that kind of Blutbad, I don't kill anymore, I haven't in years," he told Nick, veering off down the hallway.
"Wait. What did you say you were?"
"Blutbad? Vulgarized by your ancestors as the Big Bad Wolf, what'd you just get the books tonight?"
"You know about the books?"
"Of course I know about the books. We all know about the books. You people started profiling us over two hundred years ago," he said, questioning Nick's intelligence at this point. "But as you can see, I am not that big-and I am done with the bad thing."
"Well how do you-"
"How do I stay good? Through a strict regimen of diet, drugs, and pilates," he explained, giving his stomach a hearty pat. "I'm a reformed Blutbad. A Wieder Blutbad, it's a different church all together."
"Wait, you guys go to church?" Nick said, louder than he'd intended.
"Sure. Don't you?" he questioned. He turned into the next room and Nick followed right at his heels.
"Look, what she said is really happening to me. I have to stop it, how do I stop it?" Nick babbled.
"Stop it? You can't stop it," Monroe tucked a blanket into a chest then closed the chest lid and stood up and faced Nick. "It's who you are." Nick sighed; he still had so many questions. "So if you just got into this, you must be seeing some pretty strange things," Monroe assumed.
"Yeah. I am," Nick murmured.
"I guess that's why you're here," Monroe said flatly, grabbing his beer.
"I'm here because of the little girl," Nick admitted, defeated.
"Still haven't found her yet?" Monroe asked.
"No. We haven't," Nick replied with a slight edge. Monroe approached his empty window pane and sighed.
"You know where she is," Nick asserted.
"Of course I don't know where she is, did I not just tell you about my strict regimine?" Monroe said, frustrated.
"So," Nick breathed impatiently. "How many of you Blutbads are there?"
"First off, plural is Blutbaden. And, I don't know. We don't, uh, socialize much. Bad things happen when we get into a pack. 'Specially when we see red." Monroe said.
"So all those things I've been seeing-"
"We're not things." Monroe told him sharply. "Look, I'm a clockmaker, for God sake's, I don't go around abducting little girls," he assured Nick.
"Then tonight, in the backyard, you were marking your territory," Nick pointed out.
"Wasn't pissin' on my fence for kicks," Monroe muttered, swinging his beer back.
"Then there are more of you around here." Monroe put his beer down and held the beer in his mouth a second and glanced at Nick as he continued.
"Look, you may not know where she is, but you got a pretty good idea who's got her," Nick said.
"I don't bother the other Blutbaden, they don't bother me," Monroe said casually.
"Guess what, pal," Nick hissed, jabbing his finger into Monroe's chest. "I'm not a Blutbad, I'm a cop. And if you know who's got her, you had better tell me right now," he threatened.
"Please don't threaten me," Monroe asked patiently. Nick grabbed his shirt and slammed him against the wall, causing Monroe to hit the back of his head on the wall.
"I want to know who's got her!" Nick barked. Monroe looked down at Nick's hand still clenching on to his shirt and fought hard not to lose his cool, taking a deep breath. Despite the fact that this guy was annoying and a bit arrogant, Monroe was still a little shocked that he, Edward Monroe, had lived to be in the presence of a Grimm. If he'd known, at that moment, that this Grimm would've opened the doors of Hell into his world; he would've done nothing differently.
****
Nick stood over his aunt's grave, her last words replaying in his head.
"You have a sister here in Portland. Find her. Her name is Aslynn. Find her, Nick. Protect her..."
Her last words, "protect her", had trailed off breathlessly as she fell limp in his arms. He had to try his best to find this girl, but he only had one small piece of information; her name. How far could he really get with just her name? He didn't even know what she looked like. Tall, short, blonde, brunette. He had no clue. But he swore to himself on Aunt Marie's grave that he would find Aslynn and he would protect her.
He went home with Juliette in silence and immediately went to Aunt Marie's trailer. He tried to find something, anything, about Aslynn. He'd turned half of the trailer upside down before Juliette came in and told him to come eat some dinner. She was worried about him a lot. His aunt had raised him since he was twelve, and she knew it was going to be extremely hard for him to get over her death. It was hard for anyone to get over such a loss, but she lead Nick quietly into the house and sat him down and poured him some wine. They ate in silence the entire dinner.
After dinner, Nick went back to the trailer, and Juliette watched from the window as a flashlight beam wandered all over the inside of the trailer. She heard crashes and loud noises as Nick dug through everything. She didn't know what he was looking for, but she hoped he would find it soon. She hated to see him like this.
Nick pulled out drawers and knocked over things as he searched frantically. Anger boiled within him; why hadn't Aunt Marie told him about Aslynn sooner? Why had she been kept a secret from him? He froze instantly. When he found out his parents had died in a car accident, he'd been twelve years old;
So what does all of this mean?
He angrily sat down in the chair and stared, just stared at the space in front of him, his mind turning, trying to fit pieces of this bizarre puzzle together. He was a detective for Christ's sake, why couldn't he think of a reason? Dammit, why?
She walked alongside of the road, her hood over her head, covering her from the cold rain, her shoes soaked and her feet numb with cold. She walked casually as she strode up to the inviting Starbucks. She walked inside and pulled off her hood, revealing her matted chestnut hair and her face, meaning her eyes mostly; the eyes everyone stared at.
She walked up to the counter where a girl, maybe the age of twenty or so, chomped on her gum in an annoying way. Her blond hair was short and straight, reaching just above her shoulders. Her shirt was too tight and her blue eye shadow was too high up, coming just under her eyebrows, which had been plucked and drawn over perfectly. Big, silver hoop earrings dangled from her ears, and a white name-card was pinned to her too-tight shirt; MANDY was her name.
"Hi. Can I get a medium hot chocolate, please?" Aslynn asked. Mandy narrowed her eyes at her and seemed to chomp her gum louder.
"Two-fifty," Mandy said. Aslynn reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled, damp five dollar bill. She handed it to Mandy, who took it with a look of disgust, and Mandy stuffed it in the cash register, handed Aslynn the receipt and change, and grabbed a medium cup. She pulled the little lever to the machine that said HOT CHOCOLATE and stood impatiently as the rich liquid filled the cup. She switched the lever off and asked,
"Cream or no cream?"
"Cream," Aslynn said. Mandy sighed and squirted a fair amount of whipped cream and found a lid, snapped it on and thrust it into Aslynn's hands.
"Here," she grumbled. Aslynn pretended to smile and said thanks. She turned to leave, and she watched out of the corner of her eye as a group teenagers sitting at a table together watched her. Before she'd even crossed half of the small Starbucks, a girl from the table called out,
"Aww, what's the matter? Little girl need her hot cocoa? What-can't handle a latte?" she laughed and her friends joined her. Aslynn rolled her eyes and pushed open the door. She heard the girl call after her, but she ignored her and kept walking, sipping her hot chocolate. She heard the door of Starbucks open behind her, and heard footsteps, but she didn't turn around.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" It was the same girl who'd made the stupid remark who spoke.
"Yes, and I'm ignoring you, so good-bye," Aslynn said, still walking and not looking back.
"Hey!" the girl said, suddenly closer. She grabbed Aslynn's arm and spun her around. She knocked Aslynn's hot chocolate out of her hands, and Aslynn simply watched it as it fell to the ground, then looked back into the girl's face calmly.
"Nice eyes, freak," the girl sneered sarcastically.
"Nice attitude, bitch," Aslynn replied, equally as sarcastic.
"You think you're funny?" the girl hissed.
"No, but I think you're a bitch," Aslynn quipped.
"Beat her ass, Monica!" one of the girl's friends, a guy, most likely her boyfriend, said.
"Shut up, Luke!" the girl, Monica, snapped.
"Pound her face in!" another guy said, who Monica ignored.
"Do you know what happens when punks like you try and talk back to me?" Monica hissed, leaning closer to Aslynn. Her hands were wrapped around Aslynn's forearms and her nails were digging into her skin, but Aslynn hardly noticed.
"If you're asking what happens when someone stands up to a bitch like you then the answer is simple; the bitch, who is obviously you in this case, loses," Aslynn said matter-o-factually. Monica laughed and her other five friends did the same.
Monica; ring-leader, and "Luke" is obviously her boyfriend, and those two guys are his wing men, and the other two girls are Monica's friends who probably do everything she says and follow her around like lost puppies. The boyfriend will come at me first, after I deal with Monica, and the his wing men will come at me after I take care of Luke, but they're big and careless, they'll be easy to take out-
"Hey freak, I'm talking to you," Monica snapped, pulling Aslynn out of her thoughts.
"I'm sorry, I was just thinking how I'm going to kick your asses," Aslynn said simply. She smiled at Monica, who snickered.
"The only ass getting kicked is going to be yours," Monica shoved Aslynn backwards, pulling her nails out of her arms and she raised her fist to punch her, but Aslynn caught her fist in mid-air. Before Monica raised her other fist, Aslynn had both of her fists in her grasp.
"Your call," Aslynn shrugged. She grabbed Monica's arm and flipped her over her shoulder with ease. Monica let out a shriek of pain as she hit the ground with a thud, landing on her back, knocking the wind out of her lungs. She gasped for air, and Aslynn turned her attention away from her and to, of course, Luke, who was now lunging towards her.
"You bitch, how dare you do that to Monica!" Luke cried angrily.
"You can take her Luke, she's weak!" one of Luke's wing men said.
"Well," Aslynn began and she ducked down and knocked Luke's legs out from beneath him by kicking him behind the knees. He tumbled to the ground like a stack of building blocks.
"I hate to break it to you," Aslynn paused and gave him a quick kick in the face, aiming for his nose. She heard a satisfying crack and grinned as his nose broke. He yelled in pain and let out a stream of curse words.
"But your girlfriend is a bitch," she finished with a smirk. She turned to the remaining four.
The two girls scampered away without even making sure Monica was alright and the two wing men both blundered towards her. The first one Aslynn grabbed by the shoulders and kneed in the stomach with ease, and the second one came just after the other tumbled to the ground, breathlessly, and Aslynn brought her foot up to his face with a solid roundhouse-like kick. There was a crack, and Aslynn hoped he had a hairline fracture in his cheekbone. She finished him off with a simple, yet forceful, headbutt, and he fell to the ground, like the other four, but when he hit the ground, he was unconscious. She looked around at the four, a pathetic clique that thought they could just get away with messing with people for kicks.
Luke was still clutching his nose and he rose, stumbling with shock and utter clumsiness. He scrambled over to Monica, who was simultaneously coughing and staring at Aslynn, with equal shock as Luke.
"C'mon," Luke said to Monica, his voice muffled.
"You freak!" Monica managed to say between coughs. Aslynn didn't say anything, and she didn't shoot another one of her sarcastic remarks at her either. Because it was the truth. She was a freak. No one had ever taught her to fight, and yet she was a master at Jitsu. And her eyes. Everyone always stared at them. And they had a reason to; because one was blue and one was green. She was different, and they always said different was good. But that's because they weren't different.
"Mess with me again and it'll be a hell of a lot worse than this."
Aslynn was startled by the wailing sirens she could hear approaching. She turned around and saw Mandy's petrified face in the window of Starbucks; she'd seen. She'd seen what Aslynn had done and she'd called the cops. Aslynn pulled up her hood and broke into a run. She'd run down the road before she came dead on with a cop car. The driver skidded to a hault, and Aslynn dove out of the way and rolled into the ditch on the side of the road. She scrambled to her feet just as the driver of the cop car got out, gun in hands. He was tall with dark, black hair, a thin mouth and silvery blue eyes.
"Freeze!" he yelled. Aslynn's hood had fallen when she had and her eyes were what caught his attention when she stood up. They stood facing each other, eyes locked on each other; Aslynn's filled with terror and the cop's with shock and disbelief. Those eyes were familiar to him, because the same shade of silvery blue was what he saw every morning in his mirror. Aslynn pulled up her hood again and then turned and ran.
"Wait!" he called after her. He dropped his gun to his side and stood, mouth hanging open slightly in confusion as he watched her run away. Although she was gone, her face stuck in his brain. Her eyes. Her face. She seemed to resemble someone, but it was impossible.
He got back in his car and drove further up the road until he reached just in front of the Starbucks, where he saw two teenaged boys laying on the ground. One was sprawled on the floor, either dead or unconscious, he couldn't tell yet, and the other and his knees, clutching his stomach.
Nick got out of his car and crouched besides the guy sprawled on the ground, ignoring the other guy on his knees. He felt for a pulse and found one, so he knew he was alive. From the thick, bleeding cut that went across the bridge of his nose, Nick could conclude that he'd been knocked out, and by someone with a pretty hard punch, or a really strong head-butt.
He stood up and turned to the other guy.
"You ok?" he asked him. The guy stopped coughing for a second and looked up at Nick, his eyes red and puffy from coughing so much. Nick helped him to his feet.
"What happened?" Nick asked solemnly. The guy only continued to cough and Nick led him to the car and put him in the backseat. He closed the door and went into the Starbucks, but the door was locked. Mandy scurried to the door and unlocked it quickly.
"Sorry, I just locked it because I was scared she was going to come in here," she said in a tiny, scared voice. She was no longer the annoyed, attitude-bearing Mandy that just worked at Starbucks. No, now she was a timid, scared teenaged girl, with wide, fearful eyes and shaking hands. A girl that wanted nothing more than to go home and pretend none of this ever happened.
"Who?" Nick asked.
"I-I don't know, sh-she came in here an-and ordered a-a hot chocolate an-and then-" Mandy stammered.
"I'm going to take you down to the station to ask you a few questions, alright? I'll let you call your parents once we're there to let them know you're ok and what happened. Alright, er-Mandy?" he said, reading her name-tag. Mandy nodded and followed him to his car. He let her in and she sat next to the wing man that been kneed in the stomach. Nick walked over to the other guy, the one sprawled on the ground, unconscious, and made a call to the Precinct on his cell-phone. He turned to get back in his car when something shiny caught the corner of his eye. He turned slightly and his breath caught in his throat as the shimmering gold chain lay on the ground, a gold heart-shaped locket dangling from the end of it, and he knew what he would find inside of it if he opened it up, because he had the exact same one with the exact same engraving, except his had a capital, cursive N, and this one had a pretty, capital, cursive A.
He picked it up, stuffed it in his pocket, and went back to his car and waited until the medics showed up, along with Hank, Sergeant Wu, and other officers. He got out of the car, again, and talked to Hank for a minute, then he drove the two teenagers up to the Precinct. He let the two teens talk with two separate police officers in interrogation rooms, then went back to his own desk. He pulled out a pencil and a piece of paper and began to draw the girl he'd seen, the one who'd run away; the one with eyes. He drew her face exactly, and he added the little locket too. He drew it dangling from her neck, beautiful and bold. He felt his own, which was tucked inside his shirt and out of sight.
"Aslynn," he whispered under his breath. He said it so quietly, he barely even heard himself.
"No, it can't be" He whispered, angry that he'd let himself believe that it was Aslynn. He got up and left his desk, bumping into an officer on the way without apologizing or even saying "excuse me". He needed to get away, and he needed the comfort of his Aunt Marie.
Nick arrived at the graveyard and went to go to his aunt's grave, but stopped suddenly when he saw a girl wearing the same hoodie with the hood down standing over a grave with her hands stuffed in her pockets; it had to be the girl.
"Hey," he called out. The girl jumped, but didn't turn around. He came closer and noticed some blood dripping down from her hair and onto her shoulder, soaking through her hoodie.
"You're hurt," he said.
"Can't I grieve a loved one in piece without being bothered by the cops? You're the one from the coffee shop; I recognize your voice. Here to take me to jail?" the girl said in a weak, hurt voice. And Nick knew the hurt in her voice wasn't from the blood that was dripping from her head.
"I'm sorry, it's just my job. I can't just let you go. Look, you're hurt, let me take you to a hospital," Nick offered. The girl shook her head and Nick heard a small, quiet sob escape from her. The loss in her quiet sobbing sent chills down Nick's spine and he felt a form of pity he could not even manage to express.
"You don't get it. You don't know anything about me. I have no one. The only people that ever loved me are dead. Just leave me alone," she whispered. She turned her head slightly, and Nick only managed to get a glimpse of the side of her cheek, but he couldn't see the grave she was standing in front of.
"Actually, I kind of do know how you feel." Nick said. "My parents and my baby sister were killed in a car accident when I was a kid, and my aunt, who'd raised me since the accident, Aunt Marie, just passed away too. So I kind of know what it's like being alone," Nick explained, his eyes brimming with tears just thinking about his family. Aslynn froze suddenly, her sob catching in her throat; her parents had died when she was a baby, and she, too, had an aunt named Marie. She shook it off, knowing it was some wicked coincidence. A really wicked coincidence.
"Look, guy, I've got to find a place to stay for the night, so please, just get off my back." She turned, pulled up her hood, and ran away. Nick didn't try to catch her, but stood, rooted to the ground, mesmerized by the engraving on the headstone.
Marie Kessler
1958-2011
"It's her. She's alive and she was right in front of me," Nick covered his mouth with his fist to prevent himself from both screaming and crying, then regained control of his emotions. He had to find her; she'd looked starved and would most likely freeze to death if he didn't.
Aslynn was tired and getting dizzy from the lack of food and water; she'd only had barely a sip of hot chocolate before it had been knocked out of her hands. It was also getting colder as the sun began to set, and her worn out hoodie just wasn't enough to keep her warm. She hugged her arms and strode on down a small street before she just couldn't handle it anymore. Her eyes lulled back in her skull and her head swam and she collapsed in a crumpled pile of skin and bones on someone's lawn.
Eddie Monroe had been bustling about in the kitchen, preparing dinner, when he saw a girl collapse on his lawn from his kitchen window. He dropped his chopping knife and quickly went outside. He picked up the girl, who was surprisingly light for her height and age, which was probably around fifteen or sixteen, and brought her inside his house and laid her down on the couch. She was shivering and the color was gone from her face. Eddie Monroe, who preferred to be called just Monroe, went to the hall closet and brought out two thick blankets and covered the girl with them. Her eyes opened, alarmed, and she jerked at his touch.
"Take it easy. You're safe here; I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to help, ok?" Monroe said softly. He was amazed by her eyes.
"Is it alright if I wash-up here?" she asked softly. He nodded and she stood and he led her to the bathroom, handed her a clean hand towel, and she closed the door.
The past few weeks have been crazy; I helped a Grimm save a kidnapped girl, and now I've got a girl with two different color eyes in my house after she just collapsed on my lawn. What the hell could be next?
"Could you describe the assailant, please?" Oscar Varerra asked Chris Merritt.
"She was this weird girl, with two different color eyes, it was freaky, and brown hair and she was wearing this plain black hoodie," Chris told Officer Varerra.
"Two different color eyes? What color were they?" Officer Varerra asked, jotting down notes.
"One was green and one was blue, I think," Chris said uncertainly.
"And what exactly happened at the Starbucks you and your friends were at?"
"We were just sitting at the table we always sit at and we were, you know, having a good laugh and just screwing around and then that weird girl comes in and orders something and she just starts lashing out insults, it was crazy! So we left, and she followed us outside and then she just attacked all of us. She's psycho, man, I swear!" Chris told him. Everything, of course, was a lie. And to Officer Vererra, not a very good lie.
"Uh-huh. Ok. Thank you Mr. Merritt, you can go home now," Officer Varerra told him, escorting him to the door of the interrogation room. Chris left and Officer Varerra gathered his notes. Outside, a teenaged girl was sitting with another officer silently, and as soon as Oscar walked out, the other officer stood.
"Oscar, this is Mandy Driver. She was the witness of the scenario and she's due for questioning," the officer, a shortish woman with long black hair and hazel eyes named Stephanie Aarons, told Officer Varerra.
"Thanks, Steph," he replied with a warm smile. He'd always had a soft spot for Stephanie. He led Mandy, who was trembling with fear, into the same room he'd been in with Chris and closed the door.
"Hello Mandy. My name is Officer Varerra. I'll be asking questions about what you saw earlier today, alright?" he said, speaking slowly and carefully as though he was talking to a dumb child. Mandy nodded and sat across from him.
"Can you describe the assailant, please?" Officer Varerra asked.
"She had light brown hair and was wearing a black hoodie. She also had two different color eyes, it was a little freaky; one was green and the other was blue," Mandy told him. Officer Varerra nodded, quickly jotting that down on his notepad. So at least he knew that Chris hadn't been lying about what she looked like. His story, of course, had just been to cover for him and his little group's obviously big egos.
"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked.
"The girl came in and ordered a medium hot chocolate, with cream, too, and then she paid me and left. There were other people in the Starbucks too, five or six teenagers, I think. One of them, a girl, starting making fun of the girl because she ordered a hot chocolate. She said something like, "What's the matter, can't you handle a latte?" or something, and they all laughed. The girl ignored them and left anyways, but I guess those teenagers weren't satisfied, because they followed her outside to taunt her more. The next thing I knew, the girl was taking them out left and right. She was a seriously good fighter; she took out three of those big guys, and I'm almost one-hundred percent sure they were football players! It was like some kind of serious Jujitsu shit!" Mandy exclaimed.
Officer Varerro hardly noticed when Mandy said shit, and he didn't care either. He scribbled down what Mandy was saying as fast as she could to keep up. He believed Mandy's story. He knew Chris had been lying, but he almost laughed at how badly he had lied.
"Is that all?" he asked, glancing up. His cobalt blue eyes caught the light so they shone beautifully. Mandy realized she was staring and blushed slightly. Oscar Varerra was good looking, there was no denying it. He was pretty young too; only twenty-nine. He had a strong jawline and broad shoulders. His eyes were a deep, dark, blue, cobalt blue, actually, and he had a cute, little boy smile. His skin was a dark bronze color and his hair was a dirty brown. He was a naturally good looking guy, and Mandy felt a little embarrassed at how she'd been gaping at him so obviously.
"Uh, yeah. That's all. I was pretty shook up about, honestly, but I know if you were in my place, I know you'd probably have been able to take her. You look pretty strong. Do you work out a lot?" Mandy asked him flirtatiously. Oscar laughed and closed his notepad and clicked his pen.
"Mandy, you seem like a sweet girl, and yes, I do work out, but I'm just doing my job," he told her kindly. She felt herself go red and just nodded solemnly and left.
Aslynn washed her face thoroughly with soap and warm water. She scrubbed her cheeks until they turned red with irritation and she saw that she'd been in desperate need of a good washing up. Her skin was now squeaky clean, a noticeable difference compared to her usually dirty and unrecognizable face. She washed her hands then poked her head out the door.
"Hello?" she called out. Monroe came out from the kitchen, where he'd resumed his cooking, and smiled at her fresh new face.
"You're looking a little better," he told her. Aslynn smiled and asked, "Could I take a shower?" Monroe nodded and went and got her some old clothes and a clean towel and told her how to turn on the shower and adjust the temperature. He had some spare women's shampoo for when guests came, which they never did, and left her in peace. After about half an hour, Aslynn came out of the bathroom dressing in an old t-shirt and some yoga pants. She dried her hair with the towel until water no longer dripped from the ends of it and felt fresh and clean for once.
"Thank you so much," she told Monroe, who had just put dinner on the table; two plates.
"No problem. Voilà! There's salmon fillet with a side of Bratkartoffeln and steamed broccoli. I should tell you, I'm a vegetarian, so there's no meat here. But eat up, you look like you haven't eaten in a while," Monroe said, sitting down at the table.
"Sir, you don't have to-"
"Call me Monroe. And I know I don't have to, but I know a person in need when I see one. Look, you're sick, you're tired, you haven't eaten or bathed in a while. You need your strength. You can stay as long as you want, but I at least want you to rest here tonight before you decide to head off. "Now eat up! That salmon won't eat itself!" he teased. Aslynn sat down and picked up her fork and knife.
"Thank you," she said again, but more sincere this time. Monroe smiled and nodded and Aslynn put her silverware down and put her hands together and bowed her head. She whispered something quietly to herself and Monroe watched as she prayed intently then said "Amen" and picked up her silverware again. She dove into her Bratkartoffeln and it was delicious. She ate so fast, Monroe could hardly keep up.
"That was really delicious. Where did you learn to cook like that?" she asked him, listening intently.
"Well, I'm kind of self taught. Of course, my mother was always a good cook too, so I get some of that from her, I guess," Monroe said sheepishly. Aslynn smiled.
"It was great. Filling too; just what I needed," she said.
"Can I-ask you something?" Monroe asked. Aslynn shrugged and nodded.
"How come your eyes are-different?" he asked gently.
"I don't really know. I never knew my dad. Not even my mom. I knew my aunt, though, but she just-she just passed," she finished softly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"You don't have to apologize. It's not like you're the one responsible," she tried to sound casual about it, but her voice came out dry and crackly.
"I know, but I shouldn't have been digging. It's not my business."
"You've given me a shelter for the night and that's more than I could've ever asked for, so it's your business too, now. Anything you want to know, you deserve to know it. My parents died in a car accident when I was a baby. I remember being through a lot of different foster homes, hated everyone of them. Then, eight years later, a woman claiming to be aunt took me and raised me from the age of eight. She just passed away a couple weeks ago. I've been by myself ever since," she finished quietly. Monroe didn't know what to say. His food was no longer hot, but it was still warm. He sat there and fumbled over his words.
"Please don't turn me in," Aslynn begged, her eyes meeting his. There was so much in those eyes. The way they pleaded so helplessly. How could he turn her into the foster system like this? Sure, he'd only know her for less than a couple hours, but he was a decent guy, he didn't stab people in the back. But he didn't break the law either.
"I promise. You're safe with me. Just one question, what was your aunt's name?" he asked, not really expected a certain answer, but-ok, of course he was. He was eager to know if her aunt was the Grimm.
"Marie. Marie Kessler," she said quietly. Monroe felt his breath catch and he couldn't breath.
"Could you hold on for just a second?" he said in a high, squeaky voice. He excused himself and went into the hallway and pulled out his phone. He dialed a number he sometimes still thought was weird he had in his contacts, and waited for someone to pick up. Aslynn could hear him talking on the phone and her heart thumped loudly in her chest.
What if he's turning me in? Maybe he's working with somebody that's out to get me and this is all a trap.
Many things whirred around in her mind and then he came back to the table.
"Who was that?" she asked sharply and abruptly.
"Listen, you may not believe me, and this may just be a strange coincidence, but I know it's not. But you have a brother. And he's here in Portland."
Hope you guys liked the first chapter of this new story! I'm currently writing it with a friend here on Fanfiction, ScarletMoonRanger, and she's an awesome partner, the story was actually her idea! It's so fun to work together on a story, and please excuse any mistakes you might find in here, I copied it from Notepad on my computer and it doesn't have spell check, though I did proof read it, and the spacing is different when I copied it, so just try and ignore those little things and enjoy! I know it's a little long, but I think chapter 2 should be shorter. :)