WELCOME! THIS IS A SHOW MY GRANDPARENTS GOT US HOOKED ON, AND I THOUGHT I'D SHARE IT WITH THE LOVELY PEOPLE ON THIS SITE. PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!
~ONE SEPTIC MARKIPLITE.
"I run to the river and dive straight in. I pray that the water will drown put the din. But, as the water fills my mouth, it couldn't wash the echoes out. I swallow the sound and it swallows me whole...til there's nothing left inside my soul." The lyrics blasted in my ears as my feet pounded along the trail. Florence and the Machine was one of my favorite bands. I smiled as I tried to match my footfalls to the beat of the song.
No such luck, but it helped pass the time, at least. Running, while somewhat fun, wasn't my all-time favorite activity; reading fanfictions and writing them took that prize, but working on a clock with Monroe (my loveably protective and slightly queer older brother) came close. Real close, though all I typically did was pass Monnie the tools he needed. The song switched to Breath of Life, another of Florence and the Machine's creations. Masterful, I'd say, as with a lot of their work. It's a nice break from that coma-inducing classical stuff Monroe tortures me with. Not that I complain, seeing as he absolutely adores these artists, so I let him have his moments, and I just roll my eyes, and listen to my music whenever possible.
I suddenly stumble to a halt as a horrid smell reaches my nose. In a different time, I considered the smell appetizing, but never again. I was beyond that.
But still, it was highly concerning that I smelt blood on the trail. I tried to shrug it off, trying to sing Citizen Soldier by 3 Doors Down as I ran. But it was still there, a constant temptation in my nose. I did my best to ignore it. But it was hard when the smell just got more prominent.
The voices up ahead provided a decent distraction, at least. I heard them, even over the music in my earbuds. As soon as they saw me, I sped up a little, halting when they asked me to. Wait...why were police here?! I tried not to look at the source of the coppery smell in the air as they approached. Blood was everywhere around here! And...is that an...arm?! What the frick?!
"Ma'am, I'm Detective Burkhart. This is Detective Griffin. We just have a few quick questions for you regarding a homicide that took place this morning." A fairly tall Caucasian man with slightly shaggy brown hair, warm yet serious brown eyes, and a smirk that said he has someone on his mind asked. I absently flick an earbud out and nod. I resist the urge to frown as I get a better look at and smell of Detective Burkhart. There's something...off-putting about Detective Burkhart. I can't place a finger on it, but it's definetly there, the insitinct.
"Shoot." Detective Griffin takes over as Burkhart is called to examine something off-trail. I swallow. That's a ton of blood...everywhere...
"How often do you run on these trails?" I focus on the African American, who has a certain charm about him, to get my mind off the admittedly somewhat tantalizing scent around me.
"Every morning except Sundays, when I am in church." I reply easily. Griffin writes that on a notepad.
"Do you know any other runners out here?" I take a moment to think.
"The most I know is first names and tentative running schedules. Sorry. There's Mike, Mark, Sarah, and Sylvie. We hadn't even gotten to the exchanging numbers stage. We just greet each other on the trail." Griffin scoffs.
"Then how do you know their names?"
"We, once in a blue moon, happen to end our runs at the same place and we stretch together after our runs. That's only happened, like, once or twice. I am really sorry I can't give you more info on the runners here." Griffin finished writing out his notes and put away his notepad before replying.
"Well, at the very least, its a start. More than we had before I talked to you. Good day." I nodded, but Griffin pressed a card into my hand before I could take off. "In case you remember anything else " I nodded again and took off, trying to let Waka Waka by Shakira wash away my concerns, but I knew that whatever had killed someone, it wasn't human.
It was something else entirely.
=#=#=#=#=
"Where were you? Why do you reek of blood?! What happened?!" I cut Monroe off before he started a full-on panic attack, as always when something upset his usual routine, especially when it involved me.
"Ed! I'm fine! I just got held up by some cops in the park." I explained, grabbing a gallon of milk and chocolate powder to pour into a large glass. Monroe tensed.
"What did they want?" He asked, tone slightly testy. I sighed, knowing my brother's reaction would not be pretty.
"Th-there apperantly was a murder in the park, on the trail I run on all the time. You should have seen it, Monnie! There was so much blood!" I blurted in a slight rush. "But anyway, they wanted to know what I knew about other runners on those trails. I told them and that was that." Ed seemed a little disbelieving.
"Liz..." I scoffed.
"You know as well as I do that we are Reformed. We don't do...that anymore." He shrugged.
"Yeah, but I just...I remember when you used to...change at night, not remembering what you did the next morning"
"Operative clause: used to." I growl back. "Again...we're Reformed. I am as reformed as you. You know that." It was a thing with us, because we hadn't been reformed too long. Eddie still got panicky whenever I was behaving slightly different, because he didn't want to deal with an unreformed Blutbad as a reformed Blutbad. He hugged me tightly.
"Sorry. I just...its fairly early in our reformed life and I don't want to relapse and I don't want you to, either." I hugged him back.
"We won't. Now stop worrying." He sighed.
"Trying."
=#=#=#=#=
Our day was actually normal until Mon went to get the mail. I was reading a fantasy novel, Mattimeo by Brain Jacques, on the front porch, sipping a large glass of water, when Mon came out. For some reason, I watched him as he reached into the mailbox. Then, as a couple of little girls passed in front of our house, I was caught off guard by the red jacket one of them wore. So was Ed. We both felt a change, and we quickly got it back under control. It was then that we noticed the man standing at the trail head I had come out of on my run. Not taking too much notice, I turned to my brother.
"Did you..?"
"Yeah..." He replied. "You?" He nodded and over his shoulder, I heard the guy yell back to his partner. My heart skipped a beat when two things about him occurred to me: He was the detective from the park this morning. And he was charging us, looking highly ticked off.
Monroe noticed the man, backing up hurriedly, looking confused and concerned. I was in the house first, preparing to close the door as soon as my older brother was in the house. Then, I screamed as my brother was tackled into the house by the hacked off Detective Burkhart. It took all I had not to Woge and attack the officer as he pinned my older brother, who looked panicked and scared under the angry man's intense glare, beneath him, shaking Eddie roughly.
"Where is she?! Where is she?!" Burkhart roared at poor Monroe, who put his hands up defensively, complete with a helpless 'what did I do?' look. I tried to pull the detective off, but he adamantly clung to Ed's tweed sweater.
"Nick! Stop!" His partner, Griffin, ordered when he arrived. His eyes widened when he recognized me.
"Hi again. Uh...this isn't what it looks like?" I mumbled nervously.
"What the-Nick, you better have a very good explanation."
=#=#=#=#=
"Look, Detectives, you have the wrong people, I swear. I hadn't heard of any missing girl. Well, until you were yelling at my brother about it."
"Where were you at approximately 3:30-4:00 this afternoon?" Was Burkhart's only response. I refrained, barely, from rolling my eyes.
"Living room, listening to Lindsey Stirling and working on an old story in serious need of a rigorous proof-reading and editing, with my brother, who can tell you I never left the house and neither did he." It was taking every ounce of self-control I had in me to not let my voice become a growl.
Had Detective Burkhart somehow seen us Woge? It would explain his charging into our house and his suddenly hostile behaviour, as opposed to the polite, professional man I saw in the park earlier, but...how? Was he a Wesen? Griffin called his partner away from of the car.
"Nick...these two are clean. We're not finding anything here." 'Nick' huffed and left to check on the progress of the officers currently searching our house.
"This is ridiculous!" Monroe, beside me, growls.
"Yeah, but you glaring at them every chance you get isn't helping."
He rolled his eyes. "Thanks, but seriously! Why is that 'Nick' guy so obsessed with proving that we are guilty?" I swallowed.
"Only thing I can think of; he somehow saw us Woge." Monroe turned to look at me.
"There's no way!" I shrugged.
"Its the only explanation that makes sense. Which would raise some other interesting questions, like 'is he gonna take our heads or not?', you know?" Monroe swallowed.
"You can't seriously think we're watching a Grimm in action, can you?" I nodded.
"Again, its the only explanation that makes sense! He was polite and nice when I met him in the park this morning. Now...he's not."
"I know. I just am having a hard time believing this. A Grimm...here in Portland...at our house, at that." I nodded. Monroe glanced at the Detective again. I gulped, the situation just hitting me, the stories I'd heard all my life replaying in my mind.
"We're screwed." Was my inevitable conclusion. Ed nodded, eyeing me with a serious gaze.
"Hey...you know I won't let him hurt you." I cocked a brow. I nodded to let him know I understood.
"Okay, but...out of the two of us, which one has taken self-defense classes?" He pouted, but before he could respond, there was a tap at the window Monroe was closest to. A slightly embarrassed looking Asian officer opened the door.
"Listen...sorry for all this. Nick isn't usually this uptight and surly. I apologize. You're all good. Incredibly sorry for all this." He said, scratching his head. I glanced at 'Nick'. He was glaring at us from beside his car. His partner was merely fixing us with a curious eye, nothing hostile there. He then shook his head, sighing and getting into the car.
=#=#=#=#=
"Hey, bro...he's back." I was writing on my laptop, as usual at this time of night, Taylor Davis playing in my earbuds. Monroe groaned, but didn't halt or change anything about what he was doing in the other room. Smart. He stole a subtle glance out the window, however, reaching for both another bite of salad and a small screwdriver to continue repairing a classic Rolex wrist watch that had stopped working after the owner forgot to take it off while swimming. We'd had to clean and dry the entire thing. Pain in the butt, let me tell you. I'd given up, but not my brother. "He's not even standing in shadows. What kinda Grimm are we dealing with here, if he even is a Grimm?"
"An untrained one." Monroe replied. We chuckled.
"That either means he's a bigger threat than we thought, or easier to deal with-"
"We're not going to 'deal with him' or do anything unless he tries to start something." Mon interjected, screwing the cover back on. "Got an idea. Be back in a sec." He said grabbing his beer. He headed to the backyard. I groaned.
"Nasty!" I whined. Ed chuckled.
"Yer just jealous." I rolled my eyes, but moved to bring the dishes into the kitchen before heading toward the door, in case that moron in the fricking streetlight decided to attack again.
"You wish." I reply, leaning against the doorway into the kitchen, where the door to the backyard was.
"That should do it." Mon's voice was slightly higher due to the fear I could see in his eyes, guiding me with a hand on the small of my back toward the living room, where the Grimm (if that's even what he was. I suppose he could just be another Wesen, now that I've seen him in action) would be passing the window that only offered a view of the house next to ours any second now. There he goes. We Woged, preparing ourselves. Of course, being the older brother, not the logical clockmaker in this situation, Monroe was the first one to get to the man or Wesen or Grimm or whatever the Frick he is, tossing him easily against the house and growling as he approached. "You shouldn't have come back." Nick had a 'oh, Frick, I'm screwed' look that I couldn't help finding a little funny, coming from what could be a Grimm. Wait...whoa. Just like Grandma described. Grimm. Smells worse than I-what is my brother doing?! He let the Grimm go?! Ed released the Woge, unhanding Nick and backing up, hands in the air placatingly. I suppose trying to stay on a Grimm's good side is our best bet here, but I think it may be too late for that. Nick still seems on edge, if his panicked grappling for his holstered gun was any indication. "Okay, okay, okay!" Monroe said, chuckling slightly. "Lighten up. I was just making a point." I came over, leaning on Ed's shoulder.
"We have to stop meeting like this."
"Yeah." My brother agreed. "Come on. Let's grab a brew."
"I need one." I added, walking toward the door, leaving a panting and probably pretty confused Detective Burkhart behind us.
"And, by the way, you're paying for that window." Ed went on.
"Totally." This was nuts! We're about to have a beer with a freaking Grimm! Woah...I think were about to make history here!
SO! I DID A LITTLE RESEARCH AND THE ONLY NAME I FOUND WAS 'EDDIE' OR 'ED' FOR MONROE'S FIRST NAME. SO, I'M NAMING HIM EDWARD. HIS SISTER (MY OC) IS CALLED ELIZABETH, KEEPING UP THE ELIZABETHIAN NAMES. ANYWAY, HOPE YOU ENJOY!