Worm
The Grimm
Prologue
The nightclub was teeming with various patrons who danced wildly to an over head stream of musical thunder as light circulated routinely. Brockton Bay's downtown metro area was filled with establishments for nocturnal endeavors ranging from social, or to far more spine tingling ventures if one knew where to find them. Businesses were thriving despite a growing crime rate that continuously threatened to push beyond far more dirtied areas, but tonight proved to customers who partied and drank to be another beautiful spring evening. Yet unfortunately it didn't mean everyone within it's confines wanted an almost perfect social out-coming.
One person slid through groups of younger patrons who bellowed out cheers as glasses were raised due to celebrations. Quickly shoving aside a near drunken patron who roughly demanded, "What the hell is your problem, asshole!" Said person hardly seemed deterred by slipping away through dancing youths who were cheering while high on ecstasy being provided by those within the club's staff, an almost routine occurrence out of the eyes of those who'd known such pleasures. But the distribution for those swayed into such pleasures wasn't a priority tonight.
Please be here tonight, please be here! Chanting those words internally over and over again provided anxiety to swell deeply to life. Moving towards a section of the club where quieter patrons sat around lazily inhaling on either tobacco like pipes, or far more stronger habits where several pairs of reddish eyes followed interestingly enough. Yet behind dozens was a carefully designed doorway naturally blending between shadowed walls and rapidly churning lighting. Two figures stood leaning against both sides eyeing most with a stern yet indifferent expressions as security who'd been hired recently to keep an internal peace.
"Is he here, tonight?" That question came almost demanding desperately making one security guard merely raise an eyebrow, "As far as I know, he'd should. Usually comes in tonight smoking a cigar and has a drink half off. Why?" His fellow guard motioned for an explanation since neither dared to open a door leading towards an almost segregated section meant to guests who were considered high priority to be allowed privacy on their leisure. But more importantly the one who'd been in question would have been insulting for themselves to be disturbed.
Glancing over a shoulder towards the entrance of said night club past entire groups of raving people did sweat pour down freely. Shit, shit, shit! Behind were two individuals who were from an organization intent on pursuing him, "Get me in there, I need help! Immediately!" Exclaiming anxiously while one guard looked unmoved save for another who raised an eyebrow. When neither of them attempted to make any movement did an incredible stack of green bills get shoved, it'd been an ample amount in nearly ten thousand.
"Alright." One man placed said bundle aside to nod accordingly towards his fellow guard who reluctantly exhaled in opening a door. All too hastily did he scamper inside breathing faintly in relief, if only just enough to frantically scan an entire rooms worth of sitting patrons. Most were idly smoking cigars, or lazily conversing about topics none dared to talk about openly. Several bordered on racial conversations, politics and philosophical debates with emptied glasses of alcohol fueling intense yet passionate words of choice.
Despite the surreal civility inside said room did stares of disdain emerge since a lack of formal clothing outwardly. But that proved irrelevant when approaching a bar where behind an almost beautiful woman who had a nasty scar along her neck perk up, "Excuse me. But I need help finding someone who usually hangs out here." Sweat ran along his neckline due to whispers growing irritably behind at his presence for being there physically, but as far as survival was concerned he'd ignore them mainly out of desperation.
"What does your kind want here?" The bartender stated neutrally despite scowling when he spoke one word, "Grimm." Her expression hardened immediately when casually pulling out a small yet identifiable sawed off shotgun engraved with four numbers on it. His eyes noticed while gulping down fear in being in such a place, "Please, mam! I was told he'd be here tonight, I'm being...I'm being tracked by..." Anything else which would have been explained immediately ceased when doors opened behind revealing two people walking in less than amused. But the entire room's atmosphere tensed in near raw livid fury.
They weren't dressed formally, or casually save for having uniformed appearances while having clear badges apart of a well known and powerful organization. PRT! Fuck, even these people can't stop them getting me. A shield with those letters embolden on a steel badge meant little to those who'd obeyed laws, or were crafty enough to avoid their attention. But maybe there was one person he'd known to give little care about them formally. It was a desperate act to find said person out, to hope they'd be interested in shielding him from arresting powers running the city itself.
"You brought them inside." The woman stated more angrily in a stern statement while glaring mainly at two people who eyed everyone less than pleased as well. Balking between two choices he blurted out, "I'm a thinker! Alright, I hardwired some money after I cracked a bank's account open. Grimm is someone they fear!" Whispering shrilly with his back pressed up against a counter visibly trembling when the PRT members approached with little resistance. But again an entire room went deathly quiet with glares visibly promising an excuse, if they tried apprehending anyone from their seats due to past histories under wraps.
An almost irritated snort followed a dull unsympathetic response, "Sucks to be you, kid. Grimm isn't a guy anyone here likes to tolerate on good days." The weapon remained in open view when two plain looking men addressed said person they'd been pursuing, "Jose Perez." One announced his name despite going on with an alias which had a hopeful rise, "Known as the 'Rascal' hacker. You have the right to remain silent, to seek an attorney and under arrest for multiple felonies. Stop running, or we'll have to shoot you."
One drew a pistol immediately pinning said youth in place, "Everyone please remain seated, or else warrants will be searched upon those who are currently members." They weren't ignorant of who exactly sat in some couches as jeers, or fingers rose respectively yet none dared to interfere in risking their promises. This establishment had been on their radar apparently, or rather kept unmolested for use of bigger prospects to seek out notorious figures at large. And their presence marked a sign that it'd change inevitably.
"Your kind isn't welcomed here." The woman behind a bar mentioned quite aggravated as well mentioning, "And his kind as well. Do me a favor, get all of you the fuck out or I'll have pissed off members to deal with." The two agents obviously weren't concerned as one approached brazenly in kicking a thinker onto the ground who screamed when it'd been an intentional use of force. With two hands bound in cuffs as another knee into a rib cracked bone, "Are you so certain? You've been tagged as apart of a terrorist group, woman."
The law passed years placed those within said room as classified threats of domestic extremists despite none having any indication to commit such acts. It was an act of power, of fear and to keep the status quo in check despite politics accelerating to infuriate many who'd been abandoned in the name of progressive agendas. More notably did the PRT enforce such acts alongside local, state and federal law enforcement as another means to an end. It kept the capes on the 'lawful' line in check to go after those who weren't bending knees in the para-human world. And despite everything, a thinker was on their priority of lists to arrest locally.
"I'd like to see you two fucks try, I'm sure legally I can screw you two out of a job." Said woman retorted smugly to grin impeccably as neither refused to cede ground. God damn it, I can't believe it! He lied too me, said Grimm would be here tonight and fuck this shit! Internally screaming while being stood upright feebly trying to ward off an anxiety attack. Yet there was no out of this situation, it couldn't be fair despite a rough shove forward.
Yet out of sheer desperation and terror of being thrown into a para-human jail, "Tin-Man sent me! Said it'd be worth your wild!" Yelling while trying to fight off cuffs a sterner grip which tightened, a boot stomped hard behind one knee sending him jerking downwards onto a polished floor. His nose cracked loudly when said man began beating him without warning, or outright concern save for himself crying out angrily. Warmth trickled down both nostrils as a heavy foot stomped viciously onto a hand intentionally bruising and fracturing several fingers.
However one voice casually spoke up rather interested, "Tin-Man?" The lone voice was male sounded mildly surprised when from a corner which had been packed with nearly half a dozen patrons looked over as well. The thinker struggled in seeing a person stand wearing some sort of camouflage ball cap where an orange symbol mimicking a buck stood out, "Buddy, if he sent you here? You're fucking crazy and absolutely dumb as fuck, if I had to say it. Boys wearing badges aside, I think you came to the wrong place."
Dress shoes along dark blue jeans with a plain black shirt exposing some sort of silver cross resting inside an exposed v-curve stood out. But it was tinted glasses with an almost deceptive thick rim peering while their owner sipped a mixture of rum and cola, "Tin-Man...Tin-man." Fingers rubbed a goatee neatly groomed around said person's face openly pondering where that man had been so familiar in past reference. It took only several seconds before an amused smile appeared followed by fingers snapping happily.
"Don't know him." Looking over towards a man who had his firearm drawn, "Put that thing away, drop the 'Rascal' and maybe you'll have a good weekend." Another casual sip was met with disbelief as an agent hardly looked intimidated, "Take your own advice and sit back down, sir. This is PRT business, go back to your drinks and your racist conversations. You hardly look like you belong among the filth sitting here."
The man grinned visibly, "I got invited here, actually." Laughing quietly he seemed to be at ease despite having a pistol's barrel facing him intentionally, "And I'm not exactly welcomed here, either you see. I'm a nationalist whose white and you guys like lumping me with those who follow the eighty eight precedents, I technically understand the fourteen words and just known it's common sense to fight for your people's survival in a world of hatred. Ironic, if anyone thinks we're all the same and expect this country to remain the same after demographics change, right?"
Pausing to lift up a cigar whose burning end brightly glinted underneath glasses, "But power is power and liberalism is quite a cancer to make people swallow lies, I'd think." Smoke puffed out leisurely when he asked yet again in a bemusing demand, "Walk away, or you'll wish I wasn't being civil enough to dare you. PRT and I aren't exactly friendly, minus you guys walking in and pissing me off from having a nice Friday out. Sound fair?"
Neither agent seemed to humor technicalities as a nod followed an almost gleeful order, "Then you'll come with us. Suspected accomplices are legally enforced, if we have reason to detain you." Glares arose when several shifted subtly, "Get on your knees and place your hands behind your back, or else we'll detain you forcefully. White nationalists are on a list of suspect terrorist organizations, so you just screwed yourself by saying what you are...supremacist." That word drew an almost irritated look from a man who shook his head tiredly as if resigned, it'd been an easy word to label anyone with dissident like views despite decades of deliberate legislation demonizing wrong think even after para-humans had emerged.
"Says an organization whose a paramilitary within the private sector? Man, I love it when the PRT acts all big and mighty cause of super humans acting like gods." He laughed to point out an obvious fact in itself, "Shit! I guess I can't help it, but you know what? You guys act like gestapo for fucks sake, I think that's ironic."
The armed man moved forward harshly demanding without preamble, "On your knees, or I'll put you down for resisting arrest." A thinker watched stunned when the tinted glasses wearing man smirked, "No, I think you need to get on your knees. Besides I have a weapon as of now right...now." He finished when a pistol yanked itself right out of a man's stunned hand, it'd hovered face to face with the once owner almost lazily. The metallic barrel cocked itself backward followed by a click of the safety trigger being flicked aside.
"You have balls, but safety was on because you expected me to comply." From behind the Rascal who blinked owlishly when cuffs unlocked themselves, or rather shattered when pieces of metallic components rapidly hovered around a man who hardly looked concerned. Metallic strands visibly lengthened akin to dough being flattened and stretched effortlessly into spears. From off to the side another weapon came streaking out of a hidden hostler also hovering right in front of a stunned PRT agent who went pale.
Is he a cape, too? Blinking away tears while scrambling away from two stunned agents who'd expected routine pick ups glared visibly, "You kill us, we'll get a few heroes to crash this place." A well known threat for those who'd refused to obey laws meant to oppress them in all but name, "Any para-human who tries to think they're above the law, is not an exception. Who the hell do you think you are, pal to threaten us? Huh?"
The answer hardly surprised anyone save for a man who merely smiled funnily enough, "I'm just another white American whose got ears. And guess what?" Thinned metallic spears suddenly pierced both men immediately without warning sending them tumbling onto the floor, an almost stunned room bordered on cheering and warily keeping their mouths shut. Yet a puff of smoke followed with that same friendly smile in place, "I don't accept this government. Maybe that's just the old libertarian inside me finally telling you PRT guys to fuck off, but safe to say dead men don't spread their ideas around anymore."
The thinker looked up hopefully despite seeing crimson streams seeping around a crimson tipped spear from fresh corpses, "Are you Grimm?" Shakily getting up while eyeing disdainful glances since hovering metallic lazily fell back onto a blood soaked floor, "Please! I need...help, I need to speak to Grimm and..." Whatever words came next were cut off by said man who leisurely walked over tossing several twenty dollar bills to the bartender. She hardly seemed amused, or pleased despite talking nearly a hundred's worth of tip.
"I know him." Rascal's heart raced when a halfhearted gesture to follow back to where he'd been sitting previously in the room's furthest corner, "But really, Tin-Man?" Nursing bruised limbs while behind said man who shook his head far too irritated, "Fucking Tin-Man! What kind of bullshit message is that, or am I finally going nuts? Really using Teen-Titans of all damned things, I can't stand when someone wants a joke."
Shakily sitting down in a spare chair which got kicked aside from once being used as a comfort for resting legs did Rascal realize something off. Between the dark tinted glasses wearing man who casually drank another mouthful did he see a literal stereotypical skin head eyeballing him less than happily, "Like I said, I was invited to hang out here in this lounge. Cigar smoking is kind of my thing, but people wise I'm said to be, 'crazy' for talking and hearing people listen despite views contrasting when it comes to politics. Not like I share every view, but sometimes common ground is often the worst horror everyone fears most, it makes us all human and realize compromise is a two way street in most political conversations...in theory, of course."
Reaching over towards an opened pack of thinner cigars offering mildly, "Here, take one." Timidly said thinker didn't dare refuse based on uncertainty although admitting, "I never smoked." A quiet chuckle followed an overtly pleasant offer, "Well, you're shit out of luck. You're starting because you need something to calm you down, plus you seem to be a nice kid. Crazy, stupid but I guess ballsy for seeking out someone to clean up your...problems."
Some sort of plain jet lighter came up lighting the tip as Rascal instinctively inhaled before coughing loudly in response. He couldn't stop coughing for a good minute as a cheeky grin appeared, "Don't inhale like it's a cigarette you crazy bastard. You'll get sick, knocked out and have a hell of a good sleep before you know it." Said man took a drag on his own before advising mainly out of habit, "Puff and casually enjoy the taste, Rascal. Exhale through your nose and you'll get a full hit of the nicotine, then chase it with something spicy to make it a double dose."
The thinker for all his prowess mentally did as instructed abet slowly to try to play a game of civility with this killer. Yet surprisingly it wasn't as bad once he took minutes in sampling said brand which made his stomach queasy, "Gracias." He muttered tiredly despite feeling throbbing from a recent beat down much to the tinted glass wearing individual. Ironically he'd never gotten into politics finding it all mundane, if not boring and considered most idiots. But apparently Grimm, or who'd known him shared interesting views privately based on being treated friendly in a place full of supremacists who the PRT kept tabs upon.
"De nada, mi amigo." Laughter followed by an earnest admission, "Stick to English because I can't speak Spanish for shit, thinker. Used too in high school with a pal of mine who spoke French, we'd have multilingual conversations and drive people insane. Good times, good fucking times!" Whistling merrily while looking over to the stereotypical man who nodded grudgingly, he left them both after taking a drink and several cigars with others who gave them privacy. Guest, or not apparently if knowing Grimm gave respect it'd be warranted to know this was the real deal who'd get him into contact.
"So what did you exactly do?" The question smoothly was asked jokingly, "Steal too much porn, or did you really rip off a Federal bank? Cause if PRT is up your ass, I think you're not just some shit faced thinker who got into things...accidentally." Rascal looked up depressed in admitting mainly out of desperation for help, "Needed money. It's impossible to pay off your mother's medical debt, it's too much and I jumped off a bridge three weeks ago. Survived and put my mind into hacking, I was decent at it."
His story wasn't without cliché yet it wasn't anything remotely special, "I hear ya, pal." Ash got flicked into an open tray which had been use frequently, "Used to code games back in my teens, I got fucked because of this up here and ended up in the service." Fingers tapped musingly towards his own temple in a fit of rationalizing the lack of foresight, "My triggering came fast, quick and next thing I knew was my brain shredding itself. Hell it just so happened when I snapped when I had a pistol ready to blow said brain out and boom to end it!"
Rascal shuddered involuntarily when teeth were exposed crookedly in a smile any person considered as whimsical at best. Why in the hell is this total stranger, I mean he's friendly and I'm thankful but why say this to someone? The young thinker gulped down anxiety when he asked unintentionally, "Jesus Christ man! Are you on something?" Immediately biting on his tongue came too late when the man looked partially amused, if only just finding it a good question. But unfortunately if he was offended it never showed up at all.
"Because I'm honest, Rascal." Ignoring a stumped expression did his would be savior and hopeful middle man continue unashamed of attempted suicide, "So what do you need Grimm for? Huh?" He prompted less than jokingly to grin wryly, "Who do you need to take a walk? Grimm's not a nice guy, or honest with anyone but with what he damns well pleases to say is so. He'll more likely put you into work under him, if pay isn't on the table. And considering your dumb ass came up in here screaming for his name...you're fucked!"
Smoke lazily wafted from lips partially exposing teeth in a show of interest, "In case you didn't do your research, Rascal?" He gestured towards an ash tray where embers died out, "Grimm is considered an active terrorist and is on PRT's most wanted for literally reenacted Vlad the Impaler's greatest achievements in his own state to send a message, right in his home's backyard and despite everything he left a simple note." Rascal's heart pulsed rapidly when seat started forming on his forehead visibly in being a little overwhelmed into one of America's notorious killers apparently, or rather it'd been kept hush by PRT resources.
The glasses wearing man smiled to relay what it'd said, "Enough is enough." Rascal noticed his acquaintance cross both legs lazily again, "An entire state house and everyone who'd been corrupt, innocent or even recently elected gone like that!" Snapping a pair of fingers indicated how quickly it'd been over, "That was seven years ago. Grimm's a political idealist, if I had to guess and he sent a ripple into that wonderful political class of so called 'elites', to have him hunted down, pursued and the PRT desperately wanted to reeducate him into a 'hero' as per their interest. You don't need to see a Gulag when you have smart phones, control and ignorant people."
For an odd reason did this person lean forward suddenly in making him shrink back clearly frightened, "And you want to ask that kind of man? For help?" Whistling almost painfully before resting comfortably to point out knowingly, "God help you, kid. God is the only thing, or anyone Grimm fears and loves apart from hating the bastard for his sense of humor. So tell me..." He asked far more playfully to say the question again, "Do you want to meet him? If so, tell me and I'll make it happen since you're not a terrible kid from what I can tell."
Rascal didn't hesitate due to a reality of being jailed and of a woman who'd he call mother. She'd be targeted, used and he wasn't any crazier to know they'd have picked up her up into custody. Medical bills, or debt paid it'd didn't offset the guilt his parent would be manipulated into asking her son to turn himself in. He'd spent weeks, months and ultimately cracking a financial system few thinkers dared to break into out of fear alone. And yet he'd done it! For family, their future and it'd cost him everything to live normally.
"Please, mister." He stated respectfully to which an eyebrow arose intrigued, "If he can help me get rid of the PRT, I'll kiss the damned devil's foot if it's what it takes." Silence met that confirmation much to a laugh of disbelief. Leaning over again a hand strongly slapped his shoulder far too pitifully, "Well guess who's going to be taking a shit! You really are crazy, boy." A phone slipped out from one pocket where fingers nimbly texted another on screen, Rascal didn't dare look but had a sense of hope growing within him into being protected at least physically.
Several minutes trickled by rather tensely as conversations arose back gradually while figures removed bodies out of sight. I can't hide from them forever, I don't have anywhere else to go! Only Grimm is someone whose name is enough to make them stop, if I'm caught... The thinker shuddered when rumors on the dark web told of PRT education centers for would be capes who turned from unlawful dissidents into heroic figures of public eyes. Rumors of a para-human prison meant to lock down and contain those who'd refused to bend their knee to powers which kept them all locked in a prison of material wealth.
"You'll be hanging out with me, Rascal." The phone was put away with a grin in place, "Grimm's available somewhere, so consider it a favor you'll owe me. I hope you understand one thing about what you're getting yourself into, kid." An inhaling breath of air lit up a cigar's end bright orange which reflected off blackened tint glass, "Once you go down a rabbit hole, I can tell you'll never want to go back up because truth is stranger than fiction. And you'll never view the world in the same way once you see what's behind us all."
Rascal found himself in a passenger seat within one plain truck that'd seen better days. Yet the smell of cigar smoke lingered immensely within said cabin even with windows cracked open, "Couple things you need to know about Grimm, kid." The tinted glasses reflected lights underneath Brockton Bay's main avenue as they headed towards a residential area. It wasn't incredibly off putting given shadier areas of said city were worse, but the thinker had never been towards cleaner areas where drugs and gang activity ran rampant.
"Don't change your story, because if you lied to me?" Glancing over with a grin in place as accelerating momentum slowed momentarily due to stop signs, "Grimm will know about it. Trust me, last time I had someone lie to my face..." He trailed off making a pitiful whistle as hands turned a wheel accordingly, "Fish had plenty of food, or so what I heard. Sharks make quick work of human guts stuffed with fish, so they're not picky as people tend to believe. Second thing, I'd advise you to ask what makes you useful to Grimm."
Rascal gave the driver an almost panicked look which made him laugh quietly, "What?" Prompting an amused grin which exposed teeth again, "Did you think Grimm helps out anyone? He maybe wanted by the most agencies, but he's not a saint who helps out the poor and all. Guy came from a shit neighbor hood were they had apartments from the eighteen hundreds in some decaying city several states over. But I think you're covered with that thinker ability to mess with computers, it'd be best if you told him your gimmick."
Inhaling deeply while warding off a potential heart attack earned him another slap onto the closest shoulder. I hate this guy, I fucking hate this guy! But at least things looked somewhat appealing, if Grimm intended to help him with work and be protected. Seven years seemed an incredible amount of time to remain out of prison, or so what he'd imagine. Mom's good, don't worry about her since she's had her surgeries, rehab and is getting better. Worry about yourself for once, don't worry about her and the others...it'll get you caught!
"Can I ask you something?" Rascal questioned earnestly wary and curious enough to get a humming nod to do so, "That lounge is Empire eighty eight. You know..." Hazel eyes glinted underneath lights when his driver finished rather humorously, "White supremacists. I knew that it was dangerous for me to go in there, but why were you? From what I heard, I thought you were with them?" It was a question based on little information he'd known generally, if anything it'd been an entire affront of going after known nationalists even after decades of para-human emergence's.
Genuinely expecting to told a generalized answer, he'd gotten a shock when the man revealed, "They loathe nationalists who aren't 'pure' in their views, kid. I was tolerated because I'd been invited by a friend to hear them out, Grimm isn't into that because it wouldn't work today. Might have had a chance back in the forties, but whole different world back then and people today are just unable to get out of their safe spaces. And as such the powers at be found an excuse to crush what could have been a disruption for control. Or rather, if one believes it was used as a convenient tool to install what we know today."
A lingering pause followed momentarily due to his incredible shocked look alone, "Like I said, Grimm's a political idealist and he ain't afraid to show it off. He's fighting against identity politics ever since that last End-Bringer bullshit years ago. Was in the middle of Europe, lots of our people either ended up dead, or went crazy to kill others. That's the thing with nationalists here in this country, we view Europe as our motherland, we're not European white people in other words and for just the record that's what I meant by those guys in Empire-Eighty Eight tolerate us...well, at least I think if they can't see what's happening to us publicly."
Rascal was well aware of the End-Bringers who'd appeared in the last twenty, or so years in causing near apocalyptic disasters. It was taught in school, it'd been fact and no one knew why in hell's unholy grace where they came from at all. Monsters. Almost over a decade, but everyone is on edge when word gets out. He shuddered remembering footage of the latest attack in Switzerland, if anyone wanted to find footage on the dark web, it'd be praised as almost disgusting porn for even the worst of people to get off on.
"And you know how politics in any state gets, kid. Nothing gets done up here, so Grimm decided on taking a page out of a man's book to get the point across, literally." Another laugh followed when the unintentional pun stuck out impeccably dark and twisted, "You should look up footage inside that state house, I'd bet you'd reconsider your decision. But I'm getting off topic, so what did I mean to say..." He paused yet again to snap to a kinder tone, "Ah, right! So here's your third and final piece of advice, do not ask about family around him...ever."
The young thinker looked owlishly over as if disbelieving about such a serious tip, "Why?" Hazel eyes narrowed far too bemused when they came to a stop outside some modest looking house were several people smoked cigarettes with beers on hand, "Because Grimm isn't a family man traditionally speaking. Quite frankly he doesn't understand, nor will he ever about that happiness which a kid like you pulled off, since he can't relate too it. Cut all ties, or else you'll risk fucking him over, if you make the cut with him."
Their vehicle stopped within a drive-way leading up to where several had parked inside past double opened doors. People were laughing, or drinking while cheering others in a game of beer pong on within it happily. What exactly is this kind of shit? It sounds so...pathetic! He grimaced trying to not cringe at how simply normal it all sounded. And this was a person most PRT agents would die in trying to apprehend a would be monster?
"Forget what you know about Grimm, kid." He got out of the driver doorway motioning for him to follow immediately, "Monster, or not? He's a man like you, or I with blood and belief fueling to kick start anything when things stagnate. But don't pretend you'd know him, alright?" Rascal got out absently seeing various people who sat on a porch raising beer bottles towards the driver who simply ignored it all. Is this a party, or a gathering? It's like the lounge, but it seems so normal and this is where Grimm hides out?
Walking up to the doorway where various eyes either took interest, or outright laughed proved little assumption he'd been welcomed. Yet none made any comment, or appeared disrespectful save for a tinted glasses man who gestured unbothered, "Inside, kid." Entering a small hallway where people were packed inside an entire living room, kitchen and various other rooms where cigar smoke heavy lingered. Men and women either together, or single mingled with similar topics ranging about political discourse along with some sort of historical conversations indicated nothing different save for differences of opinion.
"Head down to the basement, I'll go get Grimm." That suggestion wasn't anything less than a silent demand when an open doorway leading downwards where sound of balls clattering against one another indicated pool tables. That's it? No secret hideout, or...anything? Everything ran from rumor about Grimm's location, conspiracies he'd forming some sort of extremist group, lived outside the country and various other theories. However if this was a clear indication, Rascal almost blinked since Grimm had been hiding right in plain sight with everyone second guessing rumor.
Heading down another hallway where people made way without as so much a glance, or remotely cared about seeing a new face. Peering down below did laughter, screams and howling cheering erupt due to a television playing some sort of playoff game. Rascal wasn't entirely familiar with social parties and felt uneasy when walking down to see a basement completely retrofitted, if anything it spoke of someone having too much money. A private bar with people happily helping themselves to rum, whiskey and a various array of drink had been quite amazing to witness. No one seemed to care, or paid him any glance when standing rigidly searching for any sign to wait until he'd met the man he'd hope protect him.
Four people played with pool sticks while an overhanging lamp swayed coloration of red and green to dampen an area entirely. Most were middle aged men, or women who hung over their partners cheering them on as younger couples played darts. And in several corners cards were played liberally with dollar bills, or change being offered as friendly compensation. Nothing at all screamed intimidating save for several couches of tattooed men screaming at a football game, it seemed like a casual gathering of friends and others who hardly seemed to care save for enjoying themselves. Rascal inwardly grimaced since he wasn't familiar with so many people, they'd all appeared to look out for each other and not one person complained visibly.
"You must be a new blood." The thinker literally jumped away from a young woman who absently spoke up from behind, "Yeah, I am!" He blurted out warily trying to avoid getting an idea as blue eyes along with blond hair smiled knowingly. She seemed to be in college given her upbringing of having a superior like look with haughty features, Rascal almost blinked due to how a scowl formed when she'd taken a good time inspecting himself. She's definitively apart of Empire Eighty Eight, I swear to God I've seen that look too many times in there tonight.
The blond absently started taking long drags along a full body cigar much to his shock, "If you're going to lie, I wouldn't recommend it mulatto." That slang term for his coloration made him bristle naturally yet he refused to snark back, "You caused quite a problem for my people, tonight. I should cut your balls off, stuff them in your mouth and feed you to the sharks. Kaiser isn't a forgiving man, or in the mood to humor a brown stain like yourself."
If anything it truly spoke volumes about why his driver had been invited to that lounge, "I don't need to explain myself to some wannabe Nazi bitch." Blue eyes narrowed quite entertained by a snark tease, "Did I hurt your feelings, spick? It's amazing Spaniards bred with natives, we get you and your kind crossing our border everyday thinking it'll be the New Mexico, right? Should send you right into a camp and then boot your asses out, had a friend who lost their job to an illegal for being paid less for once on a wage he'd live on years ago."
Rascal sneered realizing it'd been a stereotypical accusation yet hardly was it false, "I was born here, I'd rather stay and live like any person who survives. Don't think because Grimm is here, supposedly I'll take your shit." Forgoing caution he stood his ground as people began looking over by hooting in a jeering fashion. A few on couches turned around to nudge others rather seriously, it seemed they knew about what had happened hours ago.
"Oh shit, here we go again." One man exclaimed before taking out shots, "Any bets?" Dollars were tossed into a rapidly growing pile as others either exhaled irritably, or laughed outright finding the scene priceless. They're used too to this woman, I guess. Whatever, I didn't sell my damned life for my mom and siblings for nothing. He glared angrily right into indifferent blue eyes which were fit for a devil in his opinion.
The blond woman flicked ash right into his face abruptly making him sputter, "Don't matter if you were supposedly born, or anchored here. This is my people's country, we built it, we shaped it and we won't give it up because of progressive liberalism in maintaining control over a system which has been dictated by majorities upon the global minority...my people. Guilty unto death, I refuse to be blamed for everyone else's problems for being pro-white, I am not one of those self-hating disgusting fuck heads who make us the source of all evil."
If Rascal had been confused beforehand it'd certainly reached new levels of surreal disbelief. But regardless he wasn't backing down despite watching a possible cape kill off PRT agents who'd have thrown him into prison, "Good for you, I'm not the problem if you're looking for one! Only person I have anything to say is...Grimm, if he's here." She gave a scornful look in response before looking around noticing jeering expressions, "Why he'd associate with your kind is just another reason to say you need my people to bail you out. Kaiser will expect payment, either from your skull or the man who had balls to challenge this system your kind continuously leeches off."
Anymore words were immediately cut off when a sharp whistle brought an entire room to utter expectant silence. Rascal looked away where someone he'd never seen gave a curt order to everyone besides himself, "Clear this place out! Business first, party second and make sure to take your drinks up-stairs until it's all settled." The elder man who wore a hood gestured to a nervous thinker, "You Mexican, stay here and wait for boss. Grimm ain't happy he's dealing with someone on his weekend, so make it worth it, or end up fish food."
Quickly cigars, drinks and anything hand held was taken with their respective owners obediently despite sterner expressions emerging. Whole place just seems ready to step on a land mine, what in the hell did I just piss off? Even the blond bitch who'd gave off a cold exterior smiled hungrily to whisper one last threat, "Make my night, spick. Hopefully you'll take a trip off the coast, if the sharks stomach your guts that is."
In literal minutes an entire basement became desolate as if no one had been there enjoying their times at all. Rascal gulped down anxious anticipation when from above foot steps started coming down wooden stairs. Descending first were visible black boots attached to similar colored cargo pants, a jingling chain caught his ears attention next as a person appeared. A vest meant for stopping bullets stood out from long sleeves underneath matching said coloration, an almost cliché representation of the Grim Reaper itself seemingly mimicked knuckle plated gloves exposing fingers. And yet that wasn't what startled him most of all.
A pair of black tinted glasses encased by some black balaclava met him when he stammered, "You...but...you?" The matching voice with his driver confirmed that disbelief, "I told you, kid. I'm not one to lie, but you should have seen an obvious truth. Did you think anyone would be allowed in that lounge except for Grimm himself? Jesus, I thought you thinkers were supposed to be smart and all that, but consider me surprised."
Grimm raised a hand as Rascal found himself screaming out in shock as metallic objects came hovering to lash out twisting and extending visibly into wiring. The thinker yelled out pleading, "Please, I need your help! You saw what..." Wiring from contorting forms of metal suddenly wrapped and uplifted him off his feet dangling right up to a ceiling. Struggling for air silenced any pleading, or hope when tears trickled down his chin to make a would be killer notice. Only enforced silence reigned before Grimm moved lazily towards a bar.
"Tin-Man is an alias someone created, Rascal." There was nothing playful about this situation considering serrated edges formed from metallic surfaces lightly digging into soft flesh, "An alias you probably talked too online, right? Problem is I really don't know who, or what in the actual fuck is Tin-Man and said person leaked information about me...specifically? After seven years, do you think I'm just a seeming kind guy who isn't aware? So let's find out, together!"
Grimm's voice turned murderously when sharpened tips dug right into an arm making the young man cry out earnestly. Struggling for air proved useless when gravity began gradually forming it's own noose on blood flow, "You're bait, kid. And whose is the question, I need you to answer me truthfully or I give you a personal view of Great Whites this time of the year." There wasn't any doubt a man who'd been notorious for becoming an almost public boogeyman who'd done what he'd promised seven years ago. No mass destruction, slaughter of ignorant people and left one simple note against a country he'd grown to loathe based on internet transcripts.
"PRT are not stupid, they're smart and resourceful to hunt down para-humans who they want in their cages." Pressure eased itself allowing a tearing young man to inhale deeply, "Be honest, kid. I gave you solid advice when talking to Grimm, warned you he's not a man to ask for help and here you are? Lying to my face on our drive back here, so...speak up, or die." Whistling partially expectant did a chance emerge on whims alone, if only barely when metallic objects dug deeper. There wasn't any chance of escape, or begging with a man who'd finish what he promised.
But the thinker whispered brokenly, "I hacked into a Federal bank, Grimm! It wasn't just a bank though, I found weird data that didn't make any sense!" A man who'd be able to kill any well known cape mused idly interested, "Go on, what else? Convince me, Rascal or convince a shark that'll tear your god damned guts open thinking it's seal." Metallic objects around them both began hovering in earnest as forms once forks, knives and spoons shifted into longer appendages akin to stakes circling akin to said animals being used as threatening.
His voice quivered when remembering information far too horrifying to relieve, "Brockton Bay is in danger, I mean the entire east coast is under some sort of watch. I thought channeling money to help my mother was good, but...it mentioned you, Grimm." Said man hummed less than impressed yet made no move to interrupt, "PRT is going nuts trying to catch you, but it listed other would be capes on some weird fucking class system. Like big class system, people who can level cities, or god knows what else inside that system."
There wasn't a response save for Grimm pouring himself some sort of drink which gave nothing save for indifference. What the hell does he want me to say, I don't know anything else! I was just inside that bank's internal system, funneling cash and just happened to come across...oh, shit. The security had been far too easily penetrated, it'd been secured without doubt yet a subtle detail emerged when it tagged him as a breach. He had downloaded nearly hundreds, if not thousands of terabytes of data from one restricted section which immediately set off alarms. And the PRT had swarmed his neighborhood not even an hour later much to his inner most horror.
"PRT wanted you to know, I'm just a fucking stupid moron who thought it'd be a quick fix." He whispered stunned when Grimm raised a glass all too happily for once in their interrogation, "Only way to beat Thinkers is with other Thinkers, kid. Even I know that, even if I don't know how they do it but it's pretty clear cut. Someone had you tagged once you got inside probably, I'm no telepathic wise ass but you saw the money and went for it, good intentions or not." The man chortled oddly expectant given all the resources would be at their disposal to advance any sort of lead on any cape that'd caught their attention at all.
Pulling down a balaclava in order to sip contently left little imagination that'd it would end soon, "You're bait for me to take in, Rascal. PRT will find me, if they find you and that leaves us with a small problem I see." Tapping an almost half emptied glass accordingly did a potential killer, or savior offer a choice, "Cut all ties with your family, if you want to live remotely outside this basement. You're a Thinker, a damned decent one whose too good for a kid and they played you right into me. They want me to take you in, but unfortunately I don't play by what this government wants out of serfs who are supposedly citizens in a free nation."
Rascal stared straining to breathe in air when wiring constricted akin to a snake gradually squeezing the life out of prey, "What can you offer me? Money, I doubt it, your word which I doubt and therefore I have little doubt to offer you a place..." The boy who'd barely seem to be in high-school screamed out in sheer terror when pain began in earnest, "I can hack PRT's database! I did it once on a dare, I leaked out images of Glory-Girl topless inside their locker room two years ago!"
Grimm's snarky smirk grew rather sardonic when he found that information pathetic, "Christ help you, kid. Are you trying to piss me off, or what?" Metal stakes came within inches of Rascal's very eyes which were widening, "You're a damned Thinker! Tell me what you can offer me to help with what I want to achieve...hint, fucking hint. I don't give second chances unless you want to be alive, once I give the word to throw your body over a boat."
Frantically did thoughts align to exactly what had been said tonight pertaining to Grimm entirely. Political idealist, first and killer second. Rascal did the only thing he'd be able to offer, "I can use computers, spread information and help you. I don't know why politics is your thing, but I can hack and get information about politicians, if you let me live. I'll work for you, I swear to God and on my mother she'll live her life without me. I did everything for them, I'd do it again and if that's not enough...then fucking end it, man!"
The notorious mass murderer smiled finally with some semblance of approval, "Congratulations. You just said something that gives me an excuse to have a Thinker, welcome to my home...Rascal." Immediately following those words did metallic wiring and stakes drop all the while warping back into their original objects leaving him to breathe in air greedily. I should have listened back at that lounge, what kind of man acts so kind and understanding to become this monster? God help me, I should have taken the subway out of this damned city even if I'd gotten caught. But at least he's not unreasonable, he was telling the truth tonight.
Kneeling in place while nursing away thin red lines due to blood leaking out did a pair of black boots appear in front of him, "PRT is an enemy of us all, kid. As much as you want to fear me, I'd recommend looking in the mirror if those same people want me so badly. It scares me, if only just because I was a soldier who served and therefore can be conditioned. So let me be the first to tell you, I won't be the last." Offering a gloved hand simply did the Thinker take it standing upright to be told with humor, "Welcome to the war."
Grimm entered a bedroom while taking off his balaclava as someone mentioned disdainfully, "You're making a mistake by allowing that spick to live." Cracking his neck left to right replying rather jokingly, "You sure give me a bad name. I don't have any Thinkers, it's just us humans and one para-human who did what he'd promise. Rascal is bait, but bait that's useful to further my fight against these agenda's and the PRT is well aware, I'm not your typical dissident who goes on mass shootings when their branded for speaking out." Folding both arms he looked over a shoulder to see blond hair and blue eyes hardly look convinced at all.
Kid got fucked by doing a good thing, if only to be a means an to end. Not the first time, government and PRT team up on cutting off a person from society's means of living. Ever since moving down from home, it'd been an interesting change of scenery despite being only eight, or nine hours away. Far more room to hide, to plan and simply blend in working as any other person. The greatest trick to keeping one out of public eye was merely doing what it intended, Grimm never showed up in public view of cameras either at day, or night since he'd simply waited years to see what would change after someone had some balls to do what many wished entirely.
"Why you bother associating with lesser people is beyond me." Grimm's smile strained partially due to old views clashing with what he'd been cultivating, but leading any sort of political movement in this day and age while speaking to known gangs inside this city? Might as well shoot me dead, it doesn't mean I'm powerless but unfortunately reality isn't kind for noble ideas anymore. We're all dying a slow death, might as well enjoy what time I have left even after cleaning house back home. Things changed, but it's gotten worse when everyone is hunting you to be strung up for doing what everyone thinks and can't wish to do willingly.
Regardless things took time to achieve and after seven years of simply living without doing anything else left people paranoid, "You and Kaiser try so hard, ya know?" All too easily were views grouped jointly for conveniences sake alone, or beyond agendas to keep the ignorant well within line of what was perceived as acceptable compliance. He walked right up into lofty smoke to glare quite visibly irritated, "You called our movement a joke and we struggled, we're still here and I'm getting quite tired of that mouth..."
She coyly kissed him making anything less silenced when an eye twitched, "And that got old when we were drunk, woman." Pushing past while shaking his head did Grimm make it clear, "We have our lines, Kaiser's been a swell guy but I'm not interested. You want me around, play nice and maybe I'll tap that ass." It was all about power with this Empire gang, nothing less and they were making moves controlling the streets. Gangs, mobs and so many others all within this very city left little to imagine outside any comfort zone of familiarity.
"You're too kind for your own good, a weakness any pretty face can exploit and Kaiser is none the wiser in having me among your own." A half ass glare returned that statement with an equal snark, "If you want my dick that bad? Try harder, would ya? I had seven years waiting, hoping and all I got was the same old song and dance. You contacted me, so deal with people who you threw under the bus when it all came crashing down. Everywhere we were demonized on media, public events and people lost people for even daring to speak up."
The blond woman's smile curved deceptively pleased, "And your Impaler impression didn't prove them all right? Least I loved seeing them all scream when news broke out, it certainly sent messages and as a result all those who voice different opinions are banned, discredited and everyday our people suffer underneath the veil of liberal democracy." Grimm rolled both eyes not even willing to get into another debate fresh after acquiring a Thinker who'd he never figured was possible. Yet the Rascal kid wanted a way out, so helping his own agenda was a fair price until moves were made as Brockton Bay was a literal testing ground.
"We're human, woman." He stated bluntly to smile crookedly in response, "I'm not a leader, I'm only another man whose got some balls to do what he'll do. Besides, if you recall everyone thinks I'll be the next Satan, or something when all I did was absolutely nothing afterward." Fetching a remote to turn on local channels did something interesting pop up. Turning up the volume with another who watched somewhat amused, or rather hummed expectantly when to seeing a news reporter speaking about nightly events.
"We're live from fifth avenue where two bodies belonging to PRT officers were found murdered. Details are limited, but detectives and public relations have verified it's a para-human related issue given the lack of brutality." Watching Grimm's reaction proved far too fulfilling when he raised a finger absently in her direction, "According to reports, both agents were tasked with seeking this newly minted Thinker: Jose Perez Junior, alias known as: Rascal and now verified cape at large. PRT spokesperson Manuel James stated in a press conference, 'Any tips from public sources will be looked at, as a reward is in place for this disgusting act of murder to men, women and families of our Justice System. He will be tried in a court of law underneath Para-human conditions.' This was roughly ten minutes ago as gang violence is on the rise in lower Brockton Bay metro city area."
Grimm clicked his tongue far too loudly despite joking about this situation, "Well, shit." Rubbing along groomed facial hair which had been hidden underneath clothe, "Kid's going to be a huge pain in my ass, but I gave my word. Think Kaiser can arrange a meeting with someone who specializes in making people disappear off public record?" Another smile curled approvingly which meant he'd be further in their debt, a suitable approach for keeping tabs and prices on an individual who'd kept himself hidden despite having enough imagination to level an entire city. How much he'd kept hidden knowingly would be an interesting question to find an answer too, eventually.
She moved slyly behind him to wrap an around his neck while lighting nibbling on an earlobe, "Ever hear of a man named, Coil?" Grimm turned to give a flat expression, "Nope! Para-human?" Her smile turned deviously exposing pearl white teeth, "Thinker. The best kind, I'm sure Kaiser can maybe arrange something if you do something for...us."
Like it, or not a man would do things if he'd given his word. Grimm wasn't an exception, he wasn't powerful, charismatic and most would assume he was just another man entirely. But unlike most men, it took only one opportunity for someone to dare another to attempt. And he'd done it, consistently. As far as he was concerned, Rascal would owe him immensely for getting in closer with a group he'd been less than happy to talk too. Yet reality never ceased to surprise those who'd seen a world only become darker and far more confusing than anyone dared to imagine.
End Prologue
Author's Note: Fair warning, if you expected some-kind of generic run of the mill story? My dear readers, I'm nothing less in would be smiling if you thought wrong. Funny thing about what I intend to do, if you can stomach the fact 'Worm' is not your typical 'universe' given I binged some of it recently. It's certainly grim, if not outright realistic without ignoring things expanding. This is going to be obviously, unique in case you've noticed and I tend to not shy away from 'topics' that make most squirm in their seats whether you've admitted to yourselves, or not. Either way, this is the story of 'The Grimm', so let's expand on what exactly makes him...as him more so.
Is it a Self-Insert, not entirely given half of what is mentioned is completely exaggerated, but personality wise? Close, but certain things are dramatized mainly for the good story itself, as in what makes character...a character, an actual person. If you're expecting some billy bad ass, maybe it'll happen yet this is more of a political/philosophical questionnaire to have you think what makes us...as us. Is Grimm a Gary-Sue, I highly doubt it, in fact I doubt anyone is willing to branch out and call out what is wrong with many things.
Whether you find me insane, crazy, or perhaps just unique is irrelevant as an author, person, etc. Sometimes we all have our means to express ourselves, but not without cost and therefore I'm just another author on a site that's been my place to write what I damn well please. People have asked me about stories challenging what is happening in our time, others have threatened me for spouting off as what I'll quote as, 'You twisted fuck." Funny thing about bigotry, ignorance and utter lack of conversation is ironically what they see in the mirror. Case in point, some of what Grimm is...is apart of myself, to an extent projecting a little yet again I'll stress it's not a SI.
Obviously I will answer a few questions preemptively, is this during Worm's canonical start? No, it's well before and will lead up to into it. Why? It gives time and development before I ever have to go into original characters, like the Undersiders who are written solidly and I tend to not change characters given they're decently flushed out. So, don't worry about them if you're fanatical fans of said canon. Will there be more political commentary, of course but it's more of a consequence given what 'Grimm' does, as a means of showing every action ripples across what would be established.
Topic wise, it'll be for mature audiences who can and shall think on their own terms. It's not meant to convince you, it's to make you think while using a medium as a parallel to reality. Truth is stranger than fiction, so don't worry about me trying to 'convert' people, I doubt anyone is that shallow sighted to see there's always a deeper meaning to what's being used as development, story and person opinion. I give people that choice, so if they just happen to prove me right? Well, I don't have to do anything except laugh behind a screen, I'd say.
As for Grimm's para-human classifications? You tell me, I'm sure most of what he can do isn't entirely unreasonable. But I will drop hints, or rather showcase rather than spoil what I have inside my head. It's all good fun, if a bit serious nature to have myself wonder where lines can be crossed. And as for his 'power', which I'm still keeping relatively restrained? You tell me again, metal is quite a common thing in Worm apparently.
To those who are new, I welcome you to look into what I've written as good, or terrible. And to those who are long time readers, you know what will probably happen given I don't shy away from detail. Nonetheless I welcome you to the story of, 'The Grimm' and as such, we'll find out where it all leads. Metal manipulation is such a common thing in Worm, it only just makes everyone assume what they know...until it turns them on their heads. See you, next time and leave a review to explain what you're thinking.