Monroe didn't know how he'd gotten dragged into this one, but here he was, driving his yellow bug down a road that, on a good day, could be described as creepy. Right now, he was getting the heebie jeebies five ways to Friday and they weren't even close. Of course, Nick couldn't sense any of this, and if he did, he cheerfully ignored it, per usual. Stupid Grimm was practically bouncing with anticipation and he had no idea what was in store of the two of them. Hags weren't people you willingly sought out, let alone confronted, but that was what Nick intended to do. And by golly, he'd roped Monroe into being his chauffeur.
"You know, Blutbaden are a walk in the park compared to Hags, right? We can totally ignore this one, and I wouldn't say a word. Not a peep from me," he suggested, hoping beyond hope that Nick would wise up and just leave this one alone. Glancing to his right, he was met with indignation and a smidgen of disappointment.
"You know I can't do that. As an officer of the law, I have to follow up on every possible lead in this case, and as a Grimm, I can't just ignore a Hag living in the middle of where all those kids disappeared. You know that, Monroe. Honestly." This was met with a very put upon sigh.
"And as the only person in this car with an ounce of self preservation, I have to tell you that we're probably going to die. Honestly."
Nick just stared determinedly out the windshield and Monroe resigned himself to the situation. He could see movement in the trees and knew that the Hag was watching them approach. Undoubtedly, she'd put guardians throughout the woods, and they were racing back to her cabin with news of the yellow bug ferrying the Blutbad and Grimm ever closer. Scowling, he hunkered further into his corduroy jacket, hating the fact that he hadn't ripped out Nick's throat for what had to be the millionth time.
As they rounded the bend in the road, a small cabin came into view, it's windows lit with the dusky glow of dying embers, the last tendrils of smoke rising from the chimney to be whisked away in the breeze. All the way up to the cabin, the forest had been lush and green, but surrounding the ramshackle building, all the trees were white like skeletons, their bare branches grasping at the sky like so many bony hands. Nick popped the passenger door, full of a confidence that stemmed solely from the ignorance of what lie behind that rough hewn door. Monroe's eyes were already red, his entire being on high alert. So much so, in fact, that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the door to the little cabin swung open with a snap to reveal a decrepit old woman back lit with the hearth's orange red glow. Her jet black eyes glinted with mirth as she regarded the young Grimm.
"So this is Marie Kessler's successor. Not much common sense, but so young... I bet he'd make a tasty stew." Her gravely voice crackled and rumbled in her small frame, a thin bony finger tapping the top of her human femur cane.
"You know why I'm here," Nick declared, unaffected by her musings. "I know you had a part in all of these disappearances. Tell me where the children are, and no one will get hurt." It would have been comical if it weren't so damn scary. Throwing an incredulous look at Nick, Monroe had to wonder if the man had lost all sense. Didn't he see the pile of bones by the door? Couldn't he smell that sickly odor of cooked meat? The Hag was far too smug and far too satisfied with herself for the kids to still be alive. But the Grimm persisted.
"If you give the kids to us, I'll leave you in peace. There's no reason for this to go any further."
The Hag cackled, her skeletal face thrown back in unadultered mirth. "You think they're still alive? Such tender flesh cannot be ignored for long, my dear Grimm. If you want them, have them." With that, she flung the bones towards the two men with a strength and ferocity that belied her shriveled frame. A skull splintered into a thousand small shards against the trunk of a nearby tree while a femur and ulna shattered the windshield of the bug. Monroe dropped to the ground, crouching and snarling at the Hag, who was grinning ear to ear, her razor sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. Nick had drawn his service weapon, but had yet to fire a single shot, still trying to talk down the beast of a woman.
"Surrender now and things won't have to get ugly!" Monroe nearly rolled his eyes. Things were already ugly, Nick. Wake up and smell the death.
"Oh, I think not. Things are just starting to get interesting, my dear baby Grimm. I have grown curious as to what your kind tastes like. You, however," she pointed a gnarled finger in Monroe's direction. "I've had many pups of your kind. A bit too wild tasting for me."
He knew that she was just trying to bait him, but Monroe couldn't contain the beast inside. It burst forth in a flurry of fur and claws and teeth, snarling and leaping for the Hag who merely smiled her razor toothed smile. Nick yelled for him to stop, but the rage was too much and he launched himself at the wisp of an old woman, his fangs ready to rip out her wrinkled throat. Just as he prepared for the taste of her acrid blood, he was met with a burning wall that seared his throat and clogged his nose. Falling to the ground in a heap, Monroe reverted back to his human form, covered head to toe in a deep brown powder that smoked and sizzled on his skin. Gasping, he tried to breathe, but it was in his lungs, searing him from the inside out. He couldn't focus on Nick's shouts or the shots ringing through the cold night, only the fire in his lungs and the coals scorching his skin.
Nick watched in horror as Monroe leapt through the air towards the Hag only to be met with a plume of powder that reduced him to a whimpering heap, smoke rising off his skin in columns, the smell of burning fur and flesh cloying and thick. The Hag leaned over Monroe's prone form and just as a bony hand reached for him, shots rang out. He wasn't aware that he'd even taken the safety off, but with that first bullet sailing through the air, he couldn't stop firing until the Hag was splayed across the threshold, her oily blood seeping from her crumpled and lifeless form. He ran to Monroe, dragging him from the cabin, and flung him into the bug. Slamming the car into reverse, they careened into the night, leaving the clearing and the skeletal trees far behind.
Monroe was moaning in the front seat, unable to stop the powder from eating into his skin, muscle, and bone. Each cough and shuddering gasp coating his shirt with blood. Each breath brought agony and each jounce of the car on the dirt road forced a small cry from the man. Nick was panicking, his mind racing. Where did you take a Blutbad to get treated for something like this? A hospital? Would Monroe be able to handle being around all that blood? Could he stand to not be taken there, though? The thick smell of burning flesh made Nick nauseated and he knew that this was a matter of life and death. With nowhere else to go, he sped towards the nearest hospital.
"Where are we going?" the question was so soft that Nick was scarcely sure he'd heard it. "I said, where are we going Nick?" Monroe's voice was a hair above a whisper and he was struggling to stay conscious.
"I'm taking you to the hospital. You need help. Now." Monroe just shook his head. "You can't treat a Hag's magic with-" a deep cough shook his entire frame, more coagulated blood glopped onto the once brown corduroy. "-with normal medicine. We have to go to a Witch. Turn here," the man pointed down a residential road a few blocks before the hospital. Nick, unsure, hesitated for a moment before tearing around the corner and down the street. Guided with gestures and a few whispered words, the bug pulled into the parking lot of a run down apartment building, the brick façade crumbling at the edges and the milky glass in the windows didn't reassure Nick in the least. He was a second away from popping the bug into reverse and bee lining it for the hospital as Monroe tumbled out of the passenger's side and onto the worn pavement. Nick scrambled around the car and guided Monroe into the building. The faded laminate flooring was rolling up at the edges and half of the lights were busted, but Nick ignored that as Monroe motioned towards the old freight elevator. They stumbled in and with a bloody hand, the Blutbad mashed the 5 button. The elevator lurched upwards with a groan, the rickety gating clanging together, making for a dreadful cacophony that made Monroe's head pound. When the elevator finally came to a screeching halt, the men limped out into the dingy hallway, the once blue carpeting worn threadbare by decades of traffic and little upkeep. The wallpaper was peeling or completely missing in places and the door upon which Monroe was leaning had more than a handful of bullet holes and pock marks.
"This the one?" Nick asked quickly, pointing to the door behind the Blutbad. He nodded wearily.
"Number 57."
Nick knocked authoritatively on the door and waited for what seemed like eons before he heard the bolt click and the door swung open cautiously. He was surprised to see a young woman with large questioning doe eyes staring out at him. And just as suddenly as she appeared, her face paled and her eyes became completely black. Her head snapped back and she hissed, her mouth full of needle like teeth.
"Grim," she practically growled at him. "To what do I owe this dubious pleasure?" Her voice was cold and distant, full of hatred and fear. She was hunched over, her long black hair cascading in front of her ashen face, her black eyes like pools of oil. She kept her hands, now festooned with blackened talons in front of her, not quite poised to strike, but still ready to tear him from gut to gullet.
Nick quickly raised his hands in a non threatening gesture. "I'm not here for you. He needs your help." The Witch's eyes widened as she saw the bleeding Blutbad leaning against the doorframe. Her talons instantly retracted as she reached for him, shying as far away from the Grimm as she could. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, the slight woman guided Monroe into her apartment, never quite turning her back on Nick.
"God, Monroe. The hell did you get into? And the fuck are you thinking bringing a Grimm here?"
So, let me know what you think of my story. Did you like it? Hate it? Find my syntax completely unsettling? I'm still trying to get into the swing of Nick and Monroe, so if you have any ideas or pointers to keep them firmly entrenched in their respective characters, I'm all ears. Well, not literally, but you know what I mean.