Shorter chapter this time around, by about 1000-1500 words, but it's mostly filler to be fair. Not the best chapter, but it's required. Had I actually the skill to animate any of this, this'd be part of episode 1! This isn't going to be a long story, and I've never written action before, but this would equate to about 3 episodes on Youtube so... Yeah, I'm writing a lot but it's only about 45-55 minutes of anime. Sucks I can't single handedly make this series, that'd be a LOT easier telling the story!

But yeah, not the best chapter, mostly filler, but hopefully you enjoy it anyway!

Grimm had never ran from actual Grimm.

This, as odd as it sounded, was a fact. As a child, back when he could still be called human, Grimm had always been protected. Coddled even. He'd never seen a Grimm in reality nor ever ran for his life. Even after his... Unfortunate 'upbringing', he'd never ran. The day of his rebirth, he'd climbed atop the furry back of a Beowulf and slept as it marched on. He trusted them, was made strong by them, built a family from the only things in his life that never hurt him, never tortured him, never ripped him from his mother's love to violate in countless ways for a sake of a few laughs. A few laughs which turned into years of unending agony and a thirst to meet his end no normal man could match. The blackened creatures of nightmares, these heartless beasts of death and pain, what many thought was the physical form of the world's sins, was the only thing that came close to loving him after his mother's execution at the hands of his own disgusting species...

And yet here he was, leaping around some stranger's house, avoiding the claws of an Ursa trying to rip out his spine and floss with it.

"No! Stop it! DOWN! Stop trying to kill me, you useless bag of shit!" Off the banister of the stairs he jumped, the fragile wood splintered beneath the massive heft of the beast chasing him, rolling over the remains of the upholstery and darting into one of the doors on the lower floor. "What the hell is that stupid thing doing!? Why is it trying to kill us!?" The other voice tried to speak but was cut off as the rabid creature burst through the wall. Tucking and rolling, ducking and dodging, Grimm skittered around the small room avoiding the unending slashes, pausing only when his attacker launched itself into the adjoining room accidentally (and taking out another wall in the process). Hell if I know, kid, but this isn't normal! We've never had to fight them before, never had to run, so I'd start asking yourself what the FUCK you did upstairs that upset the natural order of things! If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was treating you like a- Another interruption as the inhuman boy was tackled back into the living room, wrestling with the gnashing teeth of his former ally and desperately trying to keep them away from his throat. Blood stained jagged bone snapped at his face, drool oozing down his cheek, as the entire weight of the demon atop him tried to crush him. "Get off of me, you- Urgh!- Dumb bastard!" Curling up on himself, feet pressing against the Ursa's gut, Grimm growled. "I said GET OFF OF ME!"

Unleashing a roar, both feet were shot violently forward, sending the creature flying backwards and into another portion of wall, collapsing part of the house ontop of it. The monster man flipped back onto his feet in time to see it hadn't even fazed his aggressor, not even dazed it, two hungry red eyes burning like the sun amidst all the rubble of the stranger's home. I can't believe I'm about to say this, but we need to KILL this thing! It's no use to us if we're the thing it's trying to kill! His other side shouted, a flash of panic echoing through them both as they realization sunk in: For the first time in their joint existence, they'd need to murder a brother in arms. But what else could they do? Die? Run? It was pointless. This rebel, this random act of violence against them, NEEDED to die! No one stepped out of line, no one attacks them and gets to live! "I can't believe I'm about to do this..." There's no other way. Now rip the bastard in half and let's get out of here! Grimm sighed, watching as the beast before his reared up on hind legs to bellow at him. To think this Ursa had been a friend just an hour ago... He readied himself, taking a gamble but not allowing his enemy to draw this out by resisting, leaving it till the last minute to impale the demonic bear through the chest. It charged, roaring, snarling, huffing, leaping through the air to flatten him for an easy kill, as Grimm pulled back his fist and prepared to skewer it.

Right up until the beast flew sideways, a hole in its skull, a gunshot ringing through the trashed house.

The pale man stood there, staring, disbelieving, watching as the creature faded to nothing, before tilting his head to where the shot had come from. There, in what used to be the doorway of the house, stood a man with a silver revolver. Shaven short white hair and a well kept beard, trimmed smoothly to the face, to match covered his head, lavender eyes staring him down. A crisp white shirt, spoiled only by the black bracers slung over his shoulders, silver cuff-links included, was tucked into deep grey pants, a black belt choking his waist, with black shoes adorning his feet. This man was old, that was agiven, but dressed to summon forth an image of respect... And perhaps fear too. Grimm could feel his eyes on him, glancing him up and down, as they stood their in silence. Soon enough, as he expected, the gun was aimed directly at him. Not an uncommon sight, to be sure, but one that angered him all the same. Oh great, more morons trying to kill us! Do us a favor, kid, and murder him. He might be a little chewy but I'm dying for something to eat after all this drama. On any other occasion, he would've obeyed and slaughtered the man where he stood. Maybe peel his skin off with him still alive or just rip out his entrails and watch him go into shock. Maybe get a laugh out of it if he tried to push them all back inside. He could crack open his skull and drink his blood from it all fancy like, enjoy a nice leg of human while he did. But this wasn't any other occasion. This was now, this weird, fucked up, crazy day he'd had. And when he got a familiar pain shooting into his brain, there was no resistance to the information flooding his mind.

Care. Love. Trust. Loyal. Tender. Sweet. Protective. Good man. Good soul.
So proud. So strong. So smart. His gun, his mace, protects. Benji...

A name. 'Benji'. Was that who this was? It sounded more like a nickname, a sickeningly sweet one at that, and Grimm wasn't about to start calling someone's sweetheart. The information he'd been given before, when he'd entered this place, was useless. Sure, it lead to the house. But why here? Why now, on this day of epic gore and genocide, was something luring him here? And why when this stranger old man appeared too? Beyond a name and perhaps the semi-useful knowledge about the white haired human's combat abilities, there was nothing of value, nothing to say who or what this was all about. It eventually occurred to the devil child that he'd been staring at the man for too long, trying to figure it all out, which incurred the stranger's wrath. "Who are you!? And what are you doing in my home with that monster!" Finger steady on the trigger, one chamber empty, five remain, the old man showed no sign of bluffing. A sturdy old goat if ever there was one, seemingly willing to harm or even kill strangers seen gallivanting with Grimm... Even if he was only being chased by it AFTER he broke into the house. Not that the gunslinger needed to know about that...

"My name is... Lazarus." Faking the best smile he could, Grimm tried to play nice with the man, hand wafting softly in a gesture of greeting as honey sweet tones replaced the usual growl of his voice. It wasn't the first time deceit was required to slaughter the living, he doubted it would be the last. Humans were so naive at times. "And I merely came inside when I noticed the door was broken open. I was in the area checking for survivors but encountered that grizzly beast instead. Had you not come along, I would've had a nasty fight on my hands!" Compliments, 'buttering up' as the term was, was a quick way to weaken a feeble mind. Appease the ego of a fool and they'll draw closer to hear more. Pride, greed, lust, these were the most common baits mankind fell victim too. Those who wanted gold, power, sex, worship, they were the easiest kills to have. After all, you can't blame the beast for biting you when you place your head in its maw. Grimm dared to take a step forward, arms held to the sides in an inviting manner, assuming he had the matter in hand. That was until a shot glanced beside his foot, forcing a snarl from him, as the old man stood stoic before him. "Don't take a step further." He spoke, voice cold as ice. "I don't know you. I don't care to know you. You're a stranger, one who invaded my home, trashed it with a demon, and pretend like you're my friend. Ha! I may be old, but I'm FAR from senile!" Thumb pressed to the hammer, pulling, clicking back to threaten Grimm, he held his aim firm. "Now, I'll ask you again... Who are you? Do you work for those terrorists? Those animal freaks who did all of this?"

Such slander induced a scowl from the monster man. How dare he accuse him of being like those weak minded simpletons! All the 'White Fang', the name he learnt after a run in with the group before, did was run around acting like heroes but slaughtering anyone who got in their way. They were a cult, blind to their own sins, killing to be powerful, to impose their rights over the rights of others. Grimm may have been a violent person, and he may have killed a LOT of people in his time, but he never proclaimed he was the good guy! And if anyone survived, not that they did, he never tried to enforce a new world order on them. Grimm was death, pure and simple. Either he killed you or you lived your life never meeting him. Clear cut. "How DARE you! Do I look like one of those assholes?! They all march around in the same stupid clothing, I'm not wearing anything like that!" The old man nodded toward him, clearing having spotted something to dispute that. "What of that mask on your face then? Looks an awful lot like their's."

Shit. He forgot he was walking around with a skull on his face.

"It's from my tribe. We wear the masks carved from bone to symbolize our kinship with the struggle between life and death." He didn't stutter, didn't stumble, as the lie rolled from his tongue. Cannibalistic murderer he was, Grimm had a knack for coming up with complex falsehoods on the spot. The human didn't seem impressed, so he continued. "We're a nomadic sort, never settling down, and we were passing through Vale when the attack came. I couldn't, in all good faith, just leave without trying to do something. So I allowed them to push forward while I promised to regroup with them afterwards. I have no intent of letting my tribe or the victims here down." He was smirking, proud of himself, eager to keep this lie going as far as it would take him. "You know, you're been interrogating me this entire time but never once told me your name." The stranger huffed, glancing him up and down, before giving an quick mumble of an answer.

"Benjamin Blanc. I live here. I help keep the peace in the neighborhood." It was all he allowed to be told, but was enough for Grimm. Benjamin... Benji? Seems whatever I heard before was right, but a fat load of good it'll do me here. The stalemate was drawing on too long for Grimm's taste, though he couldn't just charge the guy without risking a severe case of 'shot dead'. Of all the houses he could've ended up in, he cursed his luck it'd be the house of a militant grandfather.

"Where did you come from?"

It seemed like an odd question. Why would he need to know that? Given he proclaimed he was in a tribe, he didn't have many options. Vale likely had settlements, not clans. Atlas had no chance of being a viable answers. But Vacuo? It wasn't strictly a lie, he had, once upon a time, came from there, and it did provide the best cover for his own made-up background. It seemed like a good enough bluff. "Vacuo. My people tried to settle down there but the Grimm forced us to keep moving. It's not an easy life..."

Benjamin seemed froze in place, emotionless, still, as if thinking about things. As if weighing up his decisions. This is ridiculous! We could kill him and go on our way, WHY are we still around his old bag of crap!? Grimm resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Those weird things I keep seeing? He was one of them. He's related to it all but I just can't tell how! I wanna see what I can dig up, call it a brief stop for context, then we'll go back to killing... Okay? A feeling of disapproval shot down his spine, chilling him to his core. No, it's NOT okay! What the hell is going on with you today!? First the house, then that Ursa, now this! You're sick! You're acting all reasonable and... URGH! You DISGUST me! That hurt. The other voice had been with him for so long, been so approving and guided him, only for it to start insulting him like this. He felt like he was being punished by a 'father' yet somehow worse. It's not like that, I'm just curious. Besides, I'm a little worried about you. You've never been that quiet before... What's- Before he could finish his thought, his eyes caught the older man's gun lowering, free bullets being exchanged for spent casings, before slotting back into its holster. Was the old coot trusting him..?

"Listen, I'm heading over to Beacon Academy. There's apparently an evacuation going on there, I wanna make sure as many people as possible get out of here." He sighed, hands resting on his hips. "If you really do want to help, then you can come with me. We'll head through the nearby square and cut through the courtyards, it'll take us right there."

Was this real? This guy was actually trusting him, leading him right to a group of easy victims? This... Felt wrong. Too easy. And Grimm wasn't the only one thinking that. Kill him. The second his back turns, KILL. HIM. You can check out the evacuation alone, make sure it's an easy slaughter, but you CANNOT trust him! He needs to die, RIGHT NOW! And the other voice made plenty of sense. He knew that. He knew not to trust humans. To trust anyone but himself. But one thing, one single thing, was enough to convince him.

Trust. Follow. Need to. Freedom.

A voice. The same voice. The same feeling from before. Only now the pain wasn't anywhere to be found. Like whispers in his ears, it was like someone was pushing him, guiding him. Which is why he found himself disgusted by what he said next.

"Lead the way."

And would regret it for the rest of his life.

Chapter 3, hopefully produced in a few days, will likely have more filler but I promise to crank up the drama and action before the end of this story. The action is probably going to suck but that's cos I can describe the fights I picture properly... Either way, hopefully there's an feel of mystery in what I've written so far. I want a moment of "Holy crap..." in the end. Note the lack of !. I aim for a stunned silence, not an outburst of surprise. I'm weird like that.

Anyway, hope to give you all part 3 soon. And, if you somehow figured where I'm going with this (maybe you spotted the little clues I'm trying to carefully sew in), don't spoil it for the others!