Hi guys! I'm baaaaaaaack! I had some motivation/inspiration. For som reason I am encountering an error (or I just do something wrong) and the story uploads more in code then in a readeble story. Apologies if there were notifications of a new chapter and it suddenly dissapeared. I had to delete those. A'ight, that's all. Enjoy!

Chapter 3:

Jim was started to doubt his decision. Not that it was uncommon, as he felt like he made many mistakes in the past, the dark lands, for example, but he didn't regret the mistakes he made. He was the trollhunter and he tried everything in his power to protect all of trollkind. But locking Angor and Gunmar up in a random house across the street… yea he was starting to regret that one.

The criminals weren't a threat for the outside world, as they couldn't get out without Merlin's permission, but everything inside the house, was a whole other story. He didn't even leave them alone for one day and when he came back, the living room was totally and utterly wrecked. The couch pillows were ripped and so were the curtains. The saloon table laid broken in half on the ground, surrounded by wood splinters and glass. Books were ripped and wallpaper was torn of the walls.

'Holy crap...' Jim uttered as he looked at the destruction. The plastic back with supplies fell on the floor as he could only stare dumbfounded at the living room. He left them alone for ONE day…

The prisoners weren't all that welcoming either, but Jim expected that one. Gunmar would storm towards him, roaring and throwing whatever surrounded him towards Jim. The supplies weren't save either, even when Jim explained that they would need it if they wanted to survive. Gunmar did not listen. Jim overpowered him every time he came charging towards him and Gunmar was too stubborn to give up on trying.

Angor, on the other hand, would stare at him from atop of the stairs, his eyes searched for a moment to strike. That moment wouldn't come though as they both knew that Angor didn't stand a chance. If Jim could make Gunmar eat dirt, Anger wasn't so hungry for it. Jim wasn't thrilled to be turned into a troll, but at moments like this, he appreciated Merlin's 'bigger picture'. He knew that Angor and him made a truce after the Acadia bridge incident, but Jim also knew that to keep the other trolls save, he had to break it. He had taken Angor's freedom away from him, making him a prisoner. He wouldn't be surprised of Angor wanted his head on a plate. Jim felt guilty for his decision, but didn't regret it. This was for the better.

The first week the criminals didn't use the supplies, Jim noticed. It worried him, but he also knew he couldn't just tell them what to do, they wouldn't listen anyway. That would have been the case, Jim could've just asked 'Yo Gunmar, stop this war, buddy!' It wasn't as easy as the other trolls. Most human trolls of trollmarket took refuge in the big warehouses in Arcadia, having support and guidance from Blinky 'the experienced human troll' and actual humans. Claire even came up with a 'human schedule' for the trolls to follow, so they wouldn't forget important tasks like eating or sleeping. They couldn't afford another '8 minutes of sleep' incident. It felt a bit like the trollhunters were babysitting an entire community but slowly the trolls picked up on the schedule and started to make their own choices. The warehouse changed from a temporarily refuge to nice living quarters. The colorful christmas lights found their way on the walls again. Tents and shops were opened up and slowly the trolls made the place their home. It was a weird feeling, as it looked like humans had tried to replicate trollmarket on the surface, but didn't quite succeed fully. The only thing that proofed that this truly was a new 'trollmarket', were the gnomes, who survived the catastrophe. 'They could survive a apocolypse, those beasts! Little vermin!' Blinky grumbled. He was a bit overworked, Jim noticed, as he worked long hours into the night, organizing and helping other trolls into integrating in the human life. You would think it was easy to live like a human, as the three basic rules of human survival is food, water and shelter, but Jim couldn't be more wrong.

Trolls had no idea what was edible for a human, because they were used to eat metals, minerals or simply trash. Blinky had stopped a dozen of troll of trying to eat paint or drink chlorine. One troll even had to go to the hospital because he had tried to eat a cactus. 'It was indeed green and organic, you saw that well, but don't eat anything spiky or that's not on the list!' Blinky explained with frustration as he pointed his finger to the 'Safe to eat' list he held in front of the troll. 'Whatever.' the human troll tried to say, rolling his eyes and his tongue filled with spikes, sticking out of his mouth, as he got taken away into the ambulance. 'What am I going to do with them…' Blink sighed as he watched the ambulance drive away.

Jim felt bad for him. Being a leader was hard work. Luckily he had help from the changelings. The blast had changed them back into their human form, but they were already used to it. When it came to being both human and troll, Strickler and Nomura where the experts. They had spent centuries juggling between both worlds. It also made them the most powerful apart from Jim and Merlin, as they had the perks of troll strength. They came quite in handy, guiding the trolls, but especially guarding the warehouses. Morgana was still on the loose and they needed all the help they could get. Unfortunately, Notenrique got the wrong end the stick. When he changed back into human, he turned back into a baby. This was aweful for him, as he couldn't move correctly and the only language he could talk was 'baby'. Claire decided to care for her adoptive brother, taking him under her wing. Notenrique became Enrique's twin brother, as they both were the spitting image of each other. He temporarily lost most of his abilities, but he gained a family instead, which soothed his loss.

Things were tiresome and chaotic, but it was getting better in the warehouses. Jim couldn't say the same for the prison house. Even though Jim could bless the heavens that the criminals chose to wear human clothes, it was clear Gunmar and Angor weren't eating, as Jim's supplies weren't touched. The destruction of the house increased each day and both criminals wouldn't listen to Jim's pleads for them to just eat. They looked worse each day and Jim didn't know how long they would last. Gunmars attacks became weaker and weaker but after a week the havoc died down a bit and Jim noticed that they finally started eating some of the food he gave them. It was an odd feeling, but Jim was relieved that Gunmar's attack had gotten stronger after he had eaten. It was a sign he didn't choose the path of death. He also started to suspect that Gunmar was the cause of the destruction, as he was mostly found on the main floor and Angor barely left his room. Gunmar's ragewar through the house had stopped, but Jim didn't expect him to clean it up afterwards.

So the mess stayed there for weeks on end, making it hard for Jim to get through the piles of broken furniture in front of the door. He pushed through as he entered the prison house one morning. He was losing count on how many times he had delivered food and water to the house, as this was going on for a few weeks now. Jim made his way through the trash, seeing Gunmar lurking in his usual spot in the kitchen. The fallen Gumm Gumm king had made a habit of sitting in a chair across the counter, having his sight on the entrance door. It made it easier to be ready and charge at the trollhunter when he entered the house. This time though, Gunmar had remained in his seat. This surprised Jim, as he had already prepared himself to smash Gunmar to the floor once again. He gave the huge human troll a curious look. 'What is it, Gunmar? Finally realizing challenging me is useless?'

Gunmar smirked at him. 'Today you are just not worth my time...leave the food and be gone, trollhunter…' This was weird, Jim noted. He just sat there, doing nothing. After weeks of endless effort, how could Jim suddenly not be 'worth his time'? Then he noticed Gunmar's arms. There were deep gashes in his lower arms and bloodstains were spread on his dark blue t-shirt. Jim walked around the counter and saw the reason why Gunmar wouldn't leave his seat. His right foot was a mess of blood, as if something went right through it. Yeah, Gunmar would not be able to stand on the foot for a long time. Jim couldn't hide the shock on his face.

'You're stomach is weak, half breed.' Gunmar growled with a grin. 'You should see the traitor…'

Traitor?… oh, he meant Angor. 'Crap!' Jim cursed as he immediately ran towards the stairs, following the trail of blood, hearing Gumnar chuckle in the kitchen. If Gunmar was already battered like this, he didn't want to think about what state Angor would be in. He ran upstairs, through the hallway and threw the door open to Angor's room, only to be met by a sharp object held to his throat.

'What are you doing here, hunter…' Jim head Angor growl. His eyes were still fixed on the sharp object, as it appeared to be a piece of sharpened glass with the end wrapped in cloth. Damn, when Jim thought he confiscated all the sharp objects, he didn't think of broken glass. On encountering a knife to his throat, Jim could at least confirm that Angor wasn't dead. He shifted his gaze to make contact with Angor's eyes, but noticed he could only see one. The other eye was black and blue, like the rest of him. The right side of his face seemed to barely have the colour of his natural skin and his lower lip was cut. Dried blood clearly showed that his nose had been bleeding heavily. His arms were covered in heavy bruises, as he held his right arm closer to his chest, using his left to hold the knife. Is right arm seemed to be swollen, it pretty much looked like it was broken. In other words, Angor looked like shit.

'Wow! Angor, calm down, I just came here to check on you!' Jim hastily said, trying to distance his neck from the knife a bit, holding his hand ready behind his back to summon daylight if necessary. Angor noticed his move and closed the distance between Jim and his knife. 'Summon that sword of yours and I won't hesitate.' Jim could hear in Angor's voice that he was trying to show that there was nothing wrong with him and that he could still fight him to the death, but his current state clearily showed that he wasn't up for it. Jim didn't want to start a fight either, he would feel kind of like a jerk for hurting him even more.

Jim put his hands in front of him. 'Ok, ok. Look, put the weapon down, I am not here to start a fight. It's ok, let me help-'
'Yeah, you already tried that so call help on me once.' Angor angrily interrupted him. 'I don't need your damned charity.'

Jim was afraid he would say that, he kind of had it coming. He couldn't sooth Angor with sweet words of comfort, he had to be rational. Jim hardened his gaze on Angor 'Listen to me, I am not here to fight you, but I will if I have too. That knife won't stop me and you damn well know it. Put the knife down, before I make you.'

Angor took a moment, contemplating what Jim just said. He knew that Angor was aware of the facts. He could see the bags under Angors eyes. He must have been up all night, guarding the door, in case Gunmar decided to challenge him again. This was a pure act of instinct as Jim came barging into his room. He hadn't much of a choice...again.

'Tsk.' Angor pulled the knife away, turned and limped to the other side of the room, creating more distance between them. Apparently his left foot got injured too, yea he really wasn't fit to fight, Jim thought. He put the knife back in a makeshift sheath he had clipped onto his sweat pants. He turned back around again, as he rested his broken arm in his left hand, still holding it close to his chest. 'What do you want…' he sighed, not making eye contact.

Jim couldn't help but feel that this was his fault. He promised to help him and then he locked him up with a murderous psychopath, thinking only of the trolls of trollmarket. But he still had to keep in mind that Angor was also a murderous psychopath… or was he? Jim didn't like to admit it, but a question kept creeping in his thoughts: 'Why did he help us at the Arcadia bridge?' If he truly just wanted to hurt people and wreak havoc on the world, why did he help them? This question had come up a lot of times, but every time it did, he came up with the following answer: He killed Draal… This brought him back from his guilt as anger and distrust towards Angor Rot filled him once again. His friend was murdered by Angor and now Jim's basement would remain empty forever. He was dangerous. He was a monster.

'I just wanted to make sure you weren't dead…' Jim muttered, scanning the room. Blood was smeared on the floor and on the bed. Did the fight happen in Angor's room? Jim wondered. Witnessing how Gunmar had the most cuts (and a gaping hole in his foot) Jim concluded that the blood mostly had to be from him. Jim followed the trail of blood on the stairs in the wrong direction apparently. They really did a number on each other. This really felt like those prison shows on television, if you left the most violent prisoners unguarded, they would rip each others throats out like rats in a cage. So, that was exactly what Jim needed: guards to keep them in line. He couldn't leave them like that. Jim had to keep the trolls safe, but that didn't mean he had to leave Gunmar and Angor to rot. He didn't want to but he still had a promise to keep after all.

Jim grabbed his cellphone and called Claire. She must be close to Merlin, as she assisted him in finding a cure for the humanized trolls. 'Hey Claire, could you let me speak to Merlin?' he asked. 'Thanks, you're the best!' as he waited for Merlin, he reminded something. He turned towards Angor and held his hand out. 'I'd like to have you knife.'

Claire was reading through an ancient book about troll magic, in hope of finding any information about humanizing trolls. It had been weeks and both her and Merlin hadn't find any way of changing a troll back. Merlin thought about using the human to troll potion he had used on Jim, but that wouldn't bring a troll back to his full form. It was an option for the trolls who would desperately want a bit of troll back, but before he could fully conclude that there was no better cure, he would set the potion aside. For now, it was Claire hitting the books and Merlin experimenting with almost everything he had laying around. There were so many possibilities, it made him loose track. There was a side effect of being as ancient as he was and that was knowing so much you can't remember what you knew. He wasn't getting old, he wouldn't admit that.

A song of mama skull filled the silence in the room as Claire grabbed her phone to see who was calling her. 'Hey Jim! What's up!' she said as she picked up. 'Uhu, ok, here he comes!' Claire put her phone on speaker and laid it next to Merlin. Merlin still looked strangely at the phone. Why would anyone WANT to be able to speak to anyone anytime? Wasn't that the great thing of having distance between each other? Peace and no stupid questions?

'Angor!' Jim's frustrated voice came out of the cellphone. 'Give me the knife!' Merlin raised his thick white eyebrows. He certainly was no Angor.

'No, I'm keeping this one!' he heard Angor's abit further away. 'I am not a fool!'

'You know I can't let you keep it, Gunmar looks like swiss cheese downstairs!' Jim replied back.

'Whatever Swiss cheese is, he deserves to look like it!' Angor growled.

'Trollhunter?' Merlin interrupted. 'Is there a reason you are wasting my time?' The other end of the line stayed silent for a moment.

'Oh, uh, hey Merlin!' Jim said uncomfortably. 'I really need you to come to the prison house. Gunmar and Angor Rot got in an er… prison fight. They are in pretty bad shape.'

Merlin frowned to this question. 'Why do you want me to come? Isn't your mother one of those scientific doctors?'

'Yeah, I don't want my mom to come anywhere near these two, they are – damnit, Angor, give me the knife!' it sounded like Jim was losing his patience.

'NO!' Angor didn't butch.

There was a sound of two persons struggling and afterwards some loud thumps on the floor. Merlin could only hold the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger.

'Where do you think you are going? You're foot is broken!' Jim yelled. 'Wait, are you getting another one? You have more?!'

'None of your business, hunter!'

'Damn it! Ugh… Merlin, please just come too the house. I need to fix this.' Jim pleaded.

Merlin sighed. 'Alright, I'll see what I can do.'

Jim sounded relieved as he thanked Merlin and hung up.

Claire and Merlin looked at each other when the silence of their research lab returned. 'It seems he got it under control…' Claire said, trying to mean it, but let's be real, she thought, he didn't.