"Grrr…" Oh, wait that's my voice. I'm growling in anger. I don't sound threatening at all. I sound like a human baby trying to duplicate the sound of a roaring lion. Pathetic, truly I've become.

"Become?" Summer asked in confusion. No one had an answer, so Kokinado continued.

I can't do anything at the moment. I was currently being transported via mature beowolf to wherever it was taking me. Nothing to do but stare aimlessly at my surroundings and be lost in my own thoughts. Fun.

We're going through a small passing. My eyes widened at the area around me. There were signs of conflict everywhere. I could see claw marks burned into trees, the rocks, the terrain itself even. I hoped I was imagining it at first but just looking around only confirmed my fears. There was blood. So much blood. It was everywhere. For every claw mark, there were two stains of blood just inches away. I don't know whose blood it belonged to. Human, animal, probably both if I'm considering that this is Grimm we're talking about here.

"The beast would become excited at such a gruesome scene," July muttered.

"No, he-he was probably just shocked! Right, Mordred…?" Unable to speak, the pup simply huffed. He wasn't at all concerned with what that upstart, Grimm stock killing, stupidly OP knight thought of him. Summer's pensive face turned uneasy.

Strangely, I somehow felt it. These, these emotions. These lingering negative emotions. I could feel the sadness, the anger, the hopelessness all around me in the air. Oh god, this is what those poor souls felt moments before they met their end.

If Summer was uneasy then, she was nauseous now. July's face was pinched in pensive thought. A Grimm? Being genuinely horrified? By human death? Everyone else pondered the same thing. No, July thought, this 'Kokinado' is most likely just trying to trick us. I have no reason to believe that this 'book' holds any truth.

Glancing at Summer's trembling hands, Mordred blinked. Hesitating for a split second, he nudged her arm with his nose. Jumping, the girl looked at Mordred. With a shaky smile, she raised her hand to his ears, much to everyone else's horror. The pup simply gave a snort, slightly leaning into Summer's touch.

And as we continued along this bloodied path, the signs of destruction and suffering only got worse. My mind wants to vomit in disgust, but my Grimm body just stares in awe as if I was a child discovering the outside world. (Wait, am I even considered a child?)

By sunset, we arrived at our destination. It was an open forest area with visible signs of trees forcibly clawed down. Damaged bones were scattered across the ground with a quiet buzzing of lingering flies. I felt my ears twitch slightly at the sound of a nearby river gushing water with the occasional splashing. I look up ahead and notice even more beowolves, each slightly different in appearance. Some had skull plating over their heads while others showed signs of variable bony spikes protruding from their arms and back. Though, I noticed that some of these Grimm were like me: small, weak, immature. But that was where our similarities ended. I had something these beasts didn't have: a soul . . . I think/hope.

There was simply no way. A Grimm with a soul? It was unheard of. A few people, however, looked over at the strange pup and girl pair, Mordred distracting Summer. Everything, those people thought, had been unheard of at one point. Maybe, just maybe...

So this must be the pack. My pack. They didn't pay attention to me as I was carried along. Most attended to their own devices: gnawing on bones, fighting for discarded bits of flesh, while some just stared into the distance. Creepy.

Finally, the beowolf stops at a group of younglings and just drops me like a bag of groceries. My first impression of these young soon-to-be killers? They're all complete idiots. Two of them are wrestling each other in what I can assume to be a sad display of dominance while another just watches in bizarre fascination. Another is… it's just running around in circles chasing its tail. You're hunting the wrong target, you moron.

More than one person struggled to stifle a chuckle. It'd be unbecoming to find humor in Grimm, and no one wanted to draw the ire of an annoyed July.

I quickly turned to meet my transporter. I'm aware that I'm incapable of speech and I doubt it would understand me even if I could talk, but I hoped my red eyes gave the correct message: 'yo homie I don't want to be here. Take me away from these idiots.'

Older crimson stared back into mine and in response, it snarled, almost amusingly, 'Scrub you're not my problem anymore.' It nudged me even closer to them and promptly left after.

At this, there was either snickering or confusion, in many cases both.

I just sat there and stared at them in silence. The misfits stopped at what they were doing and stared back for a good second only to ignore me and continue where they left off.

I really don't know what I should be doing at this point. Out of boredom, I tried making claw marks in the dirt. Emphasis on tried. My claws might as well classify as long fingernails considering the "mark" I made looked like someone had dug a plastic fork through the ground.

How a Grimm knew what plastic was, everyone who hadn't written the whole thing off as bullshit collectively decided to not question it.

Several minutes (I counted the seconds by the way) later, a beowolf with a skull mask appeared before us with a bloody object trapped between in fangs. It drops the package, letting droplets of blood drip from its gaping maw. My canine nose picks up the foul odor; it's fresh. My eyes hovered over the object and realise it's a hand. A human hand. Oh god.

Summer's nausea came back full force, and silent anger burned in the knights and huntsmen present.

Not a second passed after masked beast dropped the hand before absolute chaos ensued. The pups, all of them, they suddenly broke out into a frenzy. I don't know how to describe it. One moment they're doing stupid things, the next they're beings overcome with bloodlust. They all pounce on the piece of flesh like savages, gnawing and thrashing, fighting over who can get another bite.

The disgust and horror in the room was palpable. At least Mordred isn't like them. I knew he wasn't! Summer shut her eyes and focused on the sole fact that her fri-Mortal Enemy! Wasn't a monster like the rest of the Grimm.

Not wanting to watch anymore I decided to move somewhere else; might as well explore my surroundings and see what else-

. . .

I managed to get one inch away from the scene before collapsing on the dirt. A new problem had arisen, something I possibly did not expect: I absolutely had no idea how to walk on four legs.

Was it left-right or right-left first? Was it simultaneous? God damn, my legs feel as if somebody had duct taped my feet to stilts drenched in oil! Why is such a basic function so hard?

Sigh. This was going to be the start of a horrible life.

Summer's cheeks were puffed with held-in laughter as Mordred glared at everyone who looked like they found it even remotely funny. "You-you had trouble-walking!" Summer managed between wheezes. Mordred could only muster a mutinous glare.

Week 1

I thought it would be a funny idea to ingrain the total amount of days I've survived into a nearby tree. Well that, and I need to maintain my sanity. Losing your sense of time is one of the first steps to madness.

It took a total of six days, but I've mastered the art of walking. It started out painful and pitiful. My early attempts could have been classified as me doing stretches to the eventual Worm. Running was an entirely different story, however. Oh, I can run in my new body. The only issue was that I couldn't run long distances. Stamina wasn't the problem – I've discovered that I and by extension the rest of my demonic race have what appeared to be an extremely large amount of stamina. I dared to claim that it was unlimited even. No, muscle memory was the issue here. My legs would turn into spaghetti mid-run and I would always come crashing on dirt. More practice was needed.

A mix of emotions came from that single paragraph. On one hand, the oh-so-dangerous beast having difficulty with such a simple function was funny. On another, while it was already speculated to be so, having the knowledge of Grimm having unlimited stamina presented to them was… unsettling.

Something I've confirmed is that creatures of Grimm don't require food. I've gone for an entire week without eating and not once have I felt signs of malnutrition or my stomach growling. I guess Grimm hunting humanity is a built-in psychological thing, though thanks to my soul I don't have to worry about sinking my fangs into anything with emotions. Water wasn't necessary either but I drink it to get rid of the dryness that builds up in my mouth. Honestly, you know that disgusting taste you get in the morning when you wake up? Yeah, that's what I experience.

I have yet to come face-to-face with a human, let alone a huntsman, but the day will eventually come. And when it does, I better have known my super ability by then. Taking another life terrifies me, I don't even think I have it in me. But self-defence justified by survival was a completely different story. Why did I have to be in these circumstances?

Taking another life? Terrifying a Grimm? Now they've heard everything.

Summer was simply unsure how villainous her Villain really was, but felt glad regardless.

I had just finished my daily practice run around the territory and decided to spend the remaining of my day lazing around with Steve – the beowolf who loved to hunt its tail. The sick thing even managed to tear a piece off too, urgh. What? Am I not allowed to give names to creatures of pure destruction? I'm not crazy alright, I just thought it would be a great idea at the time of boredom to assign an identity to a random beowolf. Steve just happened to be there.

I'm not crazy. I'm not, I swear.

I found my usual rock near Steve (who was doing Steve things) and got into resting position, fully prepared to soak in the warmth of the sun. Just as I was about to close my eyes I notice the Alpha beowolf pass by me. Its armoured body replaced the sunlight with its mountain of a shadow. Among the pack, the Alpha was the strongest. Its mere appearance itself showed that it was fit to lead. With skeletal plating covering its entire face with blood-red lining across the surface, the beast could strike fear into its prey with a simple stare. Its jagged claws were reinforced with bone; I couldn't even call them claws at this point. It was as if Edward Scissor-hands had upgraded his scissors into thick machetes. It was also the tallest, meaning that it had survived in this world for a very long time. And with time came experience. Cold blooded experience.

People itched for weapons that weren't there. Others scratched their heads over the unrecognized reference.

The Alpha stared down at me, its eyes containing curiosity. It looked as if it was studying me and my somewhat odd behaviour. Again. God, I hate it when it does that. I don't know why but only the pack leader seems to pay the most attention to me. The rest of the pack acknowledged my presence but that's as far as it goes. This one wants to know what made me tick.

The Alpha's presence alone makes my black fur stand on its ends. My heart suddenly begins to race and I can feel its rapid thumping within my chest. Sometimes I think that this will be the end for me. That the Alpha will somehow detect my inner humanity and snuff the life out of me with a single swipe of its claw. I stared back into its glare. A stupid thing I was doing – maintaining eye contact meant that I was challenging its authority. I don't know why I kept doing this every time we have these little encounters. Fear? Stupidity perhaps? It was a reflex I had no control over.

Inner humanity? July didn't believe it. Even if the Grimm supposedly had a 'soul', that didn't mean for a second that it was anything like a human.

I forced my eyes shut and feigned sleep. I hoped that I wasn't sending the wrong message: 'You're blocking my sun, move.'

It snarled quietly and leaves me be. I feel my body instantly relax as I forced a breath out from my mouth. Nothing to do now but listen to my slow breathing as sleep takes me.

I should really think of a name for it. Maybe Bob? Bill? Dick?

An Alpha beowolf named 'Bob' just… no one knew what to make of it.

Week 2

After considerate thought and a rather delightful (and mostly one-sided) discussion with Steve, I've decided to name the leader of the pack Skull Face. Believe me, I tried assigning a bunch of different names but it just didn't stick. They all sounded stupid for such a ferocious creature. You think a huntsman would be afraid of an Alpha named Carl? That's just stupid. Now Skull Face? It's still a stupid name, but it gets the message across.

"Hello. My name is Skull Face. I ate your father. Prepare to die."

Some scowled deep, having actually had their fathers and relatives eaten by Grimm. Others, like the Branwens, simply rolled their eyes at the edge lordedness. The rest didn't react beyond a narrowing of their eyes. Though one muttered, "Goini Toyamon?"

I have running down to a beat now. The daily practices have helped tremendously. Skull Face seemed to have noticed as well considering I was forcibly volunteered into joining today's hunt. It was a rather small group consisting of Skull Face, Steve, two other beowolves, and of course me.

The tremble in Summer's hands returned, all the humans impatiently waiting for the proof, or lack thereof, of the beowolf pup's guilt.

Believe me, the thought of going AWOL was the first thing that popped in my head. The risk of evoking Skull Face's wrath was the next thought that popped up and proceeded to beat up my first thought. Poor first thought, you never stood a chance.

I could feel a slight chill from within as I take in the wind rushing past me with each rapid step I took. I'm trying my hardest to keep up with the others. But with their massive bodies, they don't have to manoeuvre through every wildflower or weed that gets in their way. They might as well be running in a straight path compared to the cluster of canopies, stones, and trees that I need to overcome.

I barked at the group ahead hoping they would slow down. God, even Steve was faster than me.

I used to think that dogs aged quickly. Beowolves age twice as fast.

Over the past 2 weeks, the immature beowolves have exponentially grown. Their fangs and claws have become even deadlier, and with their extended limbs, they can cover a lot more distance when on the hunt. They've grown to the point where they're able to stand on their hind legs with ease.

Now that was very unsettling. How did Grimm come to be? Did every Grimm age that fast? Was it possible that they were just facing a never ending wave of growing danger? For every human that survives to grow into a huntsman, how many Grimm survived to become Alphas?

There's just one slight problem I've noticed.

I have yet to experience my growth spurt.

For a better explanation, no changes have occurred to me what so ever. I'm not overexaggerating. I look like the splitting image of myself from the moment I woke up in this world. It was as if I was locked in some sort of chrono-stasis. I hope to whatever gods out there that my random ability wasn't eternal youth.

The good news is that I won't be killing anyone with this body. The bad news is that I can be killed by anyone with this body.

July glared at 'Mordred'. No matter how many times the book said so, she wouldn't believe that the pup had good intentions. Not ever.

Heh, my predicament is such crap that I'm laughing sarcastically on the inside.

I lost sight of them. They've disappeared into the maze of trees. Wait, they're howling, why are they howling - *BANG*.

A golden flash lights up the distance as a thunderous clap erupts through my eardrums. The howling had long ceased afterwards. My legs followed the sound and I found myself at the edge of the forest. In front of me was a hiking path that reached into the horizon. The idea of travelling to a new location was interesting but I refocused my attention to more important matter: the source of the noise.

My eyes widened from fear for my life and I immediately rushed back behind a tree. This was soon. Way too soon.

A huntsman.

Ozpin gripped his mug a little tighter. Either the pup got away by itself… or the serving huntsman was dead.

He resembled the image of a full-metal knight: a full suit of heavy silver armour whose upper suit was reinforced with additional plating. The dancing white cape reminded me of a flag in the middle of autumn. Azure sparks of electricity crackled around his body resembling a defensive aura. His face was covered by a helmet and I might be imagining it but steam was pouring out of the eye slit. A golden spear that was clearly twice the huntsman's size was gripped firmly in his gauntlet. He stood motionless over of the remains of my hunting group with not even a single sign of fatigue.

All that remained around the knight were the lower torsos of decaying beowolves and Steve – poor guy never stood a chance. It was as if an unholy lightning had simultaneously struck them all down leaving behind ashen smoke as a show of a hunter's fury.

"He…? Wait, no, that's July!" Mordred huffed. He already figured that out, Summer!

For once I'm actually thankful that I'm pathetically small.

"Grrrr" I jumped in surprise, my heart forgets to function for a mere second. I turned my head to greet Skull Face standing behind me. Of course, it wouldn't meet its end that easily. Years of survival has taught the Alpha restraint and self-preservation. A head-on fight would be suicide for the Grimm, and we both knew that. We shared eye-contact for no more than a second. Skull Face let out a huff and turned back to the resting grounds. Today's hunt ended up in failure.

Not as if I'd contribute, of course.

The clanging of steel was heard as I watched the huntsman continue along the trail. I should turn head back now. No point in staying any longer than necessary unless I wanted to share the same fate. But my legs don't listen, they creep forward, towards the corpses. Logic screamed at me to turn back. But I'm consumed by an overwhelming force from within.

This is it, time to show your true colors, Grimm.

My entire body was shaking, trying to regain back control; but everything is in slow motion. T-This feeling, I don't know what it was. Definitely wasn't bad, though it wasn't fully good either. It was a burning desire that was forcing my steps. I was heading towards the guillotine, my impending death. Any second now that huntsman will turn his head and kill me. I know it and I'm filled with crushing dread.

And then I hear it, a mute voice roars in my mind.

Claim what is yours. Gluttonize. For you are. . .

My crimson eyes widened at the entropy. The ascending ashes from the fallen… they're no longer disintegrating into nothingness … they're surging towards me. I'm absorbing it! A wave of pleasure suddenly fills me. Amazing, that was the only word to describe it. I felt like I could lead an army!

And then it ends. Just like a light switch being flipped.

Everyone who had not witnessed this before, i.e. everyone but Summer, was beyond confused. There was just no way to make sense of this phenomenon. Some shook it off, reminding themselves of the fact that the book was 'bogus' to start with.

The satisfying sensation is gone just like the remains of the Grimm. God, I don't know what that was but I wanted to experience that bliss again. It was more than just getting another high. It was the feeling of supremacy itself. That short experience made me come to realise the abysmal numbness within me ever since I was reborn. It was a feeling I quickly adopted as "normal" with the passing mundane days as I tried to come to terms that I'm part of humanities' greatest enemies. I realised it now. I threw my trembling claw into the earth out of built up frustration.

Powerless.

I hated it. I don't want to feel that anymore. I wanted the opposite, something more, never lesser.

I wanted greatness.

I gazed into the empty sky reflecting on this insane possibility. The more I think I about it, the more possible I think I can achieve it. I can't help but grin in excitement.

I turned back into the lonely forest.

I had a lead on my random ability.

More experimentation was required.

Chapter end. Any questions beyond Mordred's conscious? No? Okay, Ozma my dude, your turn to read!

Kokinado ignored the rising voices, popping a book into existence above an uneasy Ozpin's lap. Or rather, who used to be Ozpin's lap.

All will be answered in due time. For now, let's enjoy the book, yes? Next chapter, Ozzy, take it away.

Please don't review just to ask me to update, especially not on my other stories. In any case, more dialogue in between? Less? Less passages from the actual story? Let me know what you guys want to see!