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magicaldogtoto · 9 months ago

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Are You a Good Hexenbiest, Or a Bad Hexenbiest? Chapter Two: A Cabinet of Curiosities and Epilogue

Rating: Teen (Content Warning: Beheadings and gunshots.)

Genre: Urban fantasy, horror, fairy tale, occult detective.

Word Count: Approx. 6,000 words

Summary: Emmeline faces off against the Hexenbiest on her own and makes an unlikely ally.

Author’s Note: See previous post for notes.

Emmeline stared at the bodies; her own body shook, and she let out a horrified scream. “You… you killed them!”

“Those two were your backup when it came to hunting Wesen, weren’t they?” Gertrud asked. “I imagine it’ll be a bit harder to get around without them to cover for you.”

Emmeline barely registered what she was saying. Tears filled her eyes, and there was a ringing in her ears.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get a clean cut,” Gertrud said. She readied Emmeline’s sword.

Emmeline stared at the ground, the anguish from seeing two friends–one of whom she considered an uncle–die. I couldn’t help them, she thought. All three of them; they died because of me! Behind her, the flames continued to roar, and her throat felt dry.

Gertrud prepared to swing, then suddenly stopped. “What’s that on your finger?”

Emmeline glanced at her left hand; the silver ring was still on it. She had completely forgotten about it.

Gertrud stared intently at it. “Where… where did you get that?”

“Some old lady gave it to me,” Emmeline said, too weary to do anything else.

Gertrud suddenly grabbed Emmeline’s hand and crouched down, inspecting the ring. She seemed to be noticing something that Emmeline hadn’t.

“This,” Gertrud said, her voice trembling, “this… this is…!”

A low humming sound seemed to radiate from the ring. Before Gertrud could say anything else, a huge shockwave erupted from Emmeline’s hand. It knocked Gertrud onto her back with a scream, the sword falling to the ground. Reflexively, she flexed her hand, and a small vase flung from a corner of the room at Emmeline’s head.

Emmeline felt a searing pain and saw stars, before completely blacking out on the living room floor.

*** The sound of rain falling outside and thunder rumbling in the distance awoke Emmeline. Her head still throbbed, but it was resting on what felt like a soft pillow.

She opened her eyes and was met with darkness, save for a nightlight in a corner. She sat up, still groggy, and blinked a few times. She was in bed, tucked into the bedsheets that were warm and comfy.

It took about ten seconds for her to realize that this wasn’t her apartment. The bed was much too big, the room too unfamiliar, and the view outside the window wasn’t Fremont at all (she thought she could glimpse a few large homes, also being drenched by rain).

“Where am I…?” Emmeline searched for a light and found a bedside lamp. She turned it on, and noticed that she was no longer in her black coat, black shirt, or black jeans. She now had a white nightgown that she didn’t remember having, nor did she recall ever changing.

She looked around for her clothes, and her sword, but couldn’t find them. Her silver ring was, however, still on her finger. The cut on her arm was now bandaged, too.

She tried to remember what happened… she recalled Gertrud’s house, the fight, getting knocked out…

Uncle John and Mansley with bullets in their heads.

The memory of their deaths caused her to bury her face in her hands and cry. First Helena, now them… what good was being a Grimm if she couldn’t even protect the people she was close to? She wished–and it wasn’t the first time she wished–that she had never found out about Grimms, or Wesen, or any of those things.

She cried until she was out of tears. That was when she heard a voice outside talking to somebody.

Emmeline listened closely. The voice was familiar, but she couldn’t quite yet recall where she had heard it.

“Take these to her,” the voice said, “she should be waking up soon.”

They were talking about her, Emmeline figured. Who were they? Why did they bring her here?

Emmeline got out of bed and made her way to the bedroom door. She pressed her back against the wall next to it, eyeing the doorknob.

Someone went through the trouble of getting her here; for what purpose, she didn’t know. But she wasn’t going to just sit around. If she asserted herself, she was sure to get some answers.

She held her breath. The doorknob turned, and light poured in from the room outside. A figure stepped in.

Emmeline sprung at that moment, tacking the figure. The silver tray the figure was holding clattered on the floor, the water forming a puddle.

The figure–it was a girl in a maid outfit, Emmeline noticed–grunted and elbowed Emmeline. Emmeline flew back, only to jump on her again. Emmeline did her best to subdue her with her hands, but the maid was more agile than she had expected. Even in that frilly dress, she managed to land a few hits on Emmeline.

Emmeline took another swing at her, only for the maid to slip behind her and grab her wrists. She held Emmeline in place, even as the latter struggled.

“Let me go!” Emmeline cried out. “Where am I? Who are you?!” She glanced back at the silent maid, who only glared at her with her green eyes.

Emmeline paused. Green eyes…? “Wait,” she began, “aren’t you…?”

“What’s going on in there?” Another figure appeared in the doorway. The light of the other room cast the bent figure in shadow, but Emmeline now recognized the voice.

“Y-you…!” Emmeline exclaimed.

The old woman from the park smiled. “Hello, Emmeline. I’m glad to see you’re unharmed.” She was wearing a blue blouse and khaki pants that seemed a tad oversized for her frail body. It looked more formal than what she had been wearing at the park. Her feet also had black heels.

The woman turned to the maid. “Melinoe, let her go. She’s a guest.”

The maid quietly released Emmeline, who rubbed her wrists. “You make your granddaughter work as your maid?”

The old woman chuckled. “I guess I should come clean now; Melinoe isn’t my granddaughter. But she’s been working for me these past few years.”

Emmeline glanced back at Melinoe. The girl just stared at her, her expression flat.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” Emmeline asked.

“...” Nope, nothing.

“I’m glad you wore that ring tonight,” the old woman said. “I knew it would be able to protect you from Hexenbiest magic.”

Hexenbiest… “You know about that? You know about Wesen?”

“And Grimms,” the old woman said. “That’s why I wanted to meet you. I believe we have the same goal.”

“Same goal,” Emmeline muttered. “Well, I don’t know what’s even going on here. Who are you… really? Are you a Grimm?” She had heard from her sister that some Grimms lived long lives; others were not so fortunate.

“A Grimm…” The woman seemed amused by that. “No, not even close…”

Before Emmeline’s eyes, the woman’s body became upright. Her withered form suddenly filled out, though her skin remained decrepit. Her body grew until it was a head taller than Emmeline, and her gray hair became a shocking white. Her face looked even more haggard, and her lips rotted away, her crooked teeth visible.

Emmeline reeled back. “You’re a Hexenbiest?!”

The woman hissed a bit, before moving as if a shock had gone through her body. Suddenly her Hexenbiest form retracted; her hair became long, falling over her head in red ringlets. Her eyes turned a calm gray. Her skin was now a flawless, fair color. Instead of looking like an elderly woman in her seventies, she looked to be somewhere in her late thirties or early forties. Her clothes, which were only a minute ago oversized, now fit her more young-looking body better.

Emmeline stared at the transformation, her jaw dropping. If there was one word that came to her mind, it was “beautiful.” This Hexenbiest didn’t look like the witches of fairy tales who ate children or cursed people. She looked more like the fairy godmothers and wise-women who helped young people in distress.

A fairy godmother who was also a career woman, Emmeline thought to herself.

“You’re…” Emmeline said, still in shock. “You’re…”

“Beautiful?” the woman’s pink lips twitched into a smile. Her voice was now like a sweet melody. “I get that a lot.”

“Who… who are you?”

“You can call me Kriemhild. Kriemhild Wagner.”

Emmeline looked at Melinoe. “And is she…?”

“A Hexenbiest?” Kriemhild finished for her. Melinoe just silently shook her head.

“No…? Then what are you?” Emmeline asked.

“She’s a Spriggan,” Kriemhild answered. “They’re originally from the British Isles. Don’t underestimate her size; Spriggans can be very fearsome opponents.”

Emmeline turned back to Kriemhild. “You… were you the one who brought me here? From Gertrud’s home?”

Kriemhild nodded. “I was. I’m sorry, but we’ve been watching you for some time now. Every Wesen in Seattle now knows about the Grimm–that job you did in the International District? They still talk about it.”

Emmeline recalled that job; a Tofu Kozu had been feeding guests at a restaurant harmful tofu that left them with a mysterious illness. With Uncle John’s help, they managed to arrest the Tofu Kozu with little effort.

“You’re a Hexenbiest,” Emmeline said. Despite the change in Kriemhild’s appearance, she still felt wary. “And you brought me here, to…?”

“Broadmoor,” Kriemhild said. “You’re in Broadmoor.”

Emmeline’s jaw dropped once more. “Broadmoor? Really?” The gated community in Eastern Seattle with the golf field and all the big houses? She was actually here?

Emmeline looked back out the window. The rain was still relentlessly pouring. “Are there… other Hexenbiests living here, too?”

Kriemhild smiled. “There are. There are many Hexenbiests in Seattle. And believe it or not, we’re not all willing to mutilate innocent children. In the present, we tend to hold down some fairly mundane jobs. We can be teachers, librarians… attorneys…”

That last one doesn’t surprise me, Emmeline thought in her head.

“... I personally have been working for the city for many years. My point is, we have to manage the two halves of our lives in order to fit in. Just like you.”

Emmeline narrowed her eyes. “I’m not like you.”

Kriemhild smirked. “You’re a Grimm, yes. But you also have to tow the line between worlds. And like my colleagues in the city, you also maintain order among the Wesen community. When you think about it, we have the same goals.”

The gears in Emmeline’s head started to churn. “So… why exactly did you bring me here? And why did you give me this ring?”

“Times are changing,” Kriemhild said. “The world is changing, both for Wesen, and for the Kehrseite.”

That word again. Emmeline had heard some Wesen use it before; it was what they called normal, non-Wesen, non-Grimm people.

“What does any of that have to do with me?” Emmeline didn’t need to be a Grimm to know the world was changing. She watched and read the news as much as she could tolerate; and she couldn’t tolerate hearing about things she couldn’t change or stop that much. At least hunting Wesen was something she could do to help the world.

“It has everything to do with you,” Kriemhild replied. “My colleagues and superiors–many who are Hexenbiests, just like me–do what we can to keep this city and the surrounding area safe. But we can only do so much. You probably don’t believe this, but there are things that are worse than Hexenbiests out there, even in this city. They aren’t afraid of us… but they all were taught from a young age to fear the Grimms. Your kind… you’re the monsters under our beds. You are the bogeyman for our kind.”

Emmeline took Kriemhild’s words in. “So that’s it? Do you just need a personal attack dog?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way…”

Emmeline shook her head. “I refuse.”

Kriemhild fixed her gaze on her once more. “... Why?”

“I’m not working with a Hexenbiest. I can hunt Wesen on my own, just like my sister and my dad did.”

She made a move to leave, only for Melinoe to step in front of her, silently glaring.

“Your sister and your dad,” Kriemhild repeated. “I knew of them, too. The people I work with turned a blind eye to them for the most part. They hunted the most dangerous Wesen, and we left them to their own devices. But if I recall, they also had outside help–or inside, depending on how you look at it. Those two detective friends of yours…?”

Emmeline tensed up. “What do you know about them?”

“I know that they’re dead. And with them, any real support you had in fighting the evil that lurks in this city.” Her tone was firm, serious. “In the Old World, you Grimms could wander around the land, hunting Wesen and getting out without anyone seeing you. Here? There’s surveillance all over the place. DNA testing and forensics that can trace you if you don’t know the right people to talk your way out of things.”

Emmeline wanted to say something, but she knew Kriemhild was right.

“Not to mention,” Kriemhild went on, “Wesen revert back to their human forms upon dying. You look at them, and you know you killed a Blutbad, or a Hässlich. The police see that? They just see a vigilante who attacked a high school teacher or a shop owner. And what happens if you can’t even tie them to any actual crimes? What will they do to you, especially if you start trying to say that you saw them turn into monsters? Where do you think they’ll put you?”

Emmeline’s mouth was in a firm line. She just looked at Kriemhild.

“So yes, I am a Hexenbiest,” Kriemhild said. “But I’m well-connected. I know all kinds of people and businesses in this city… and beyond. You can say I’m a poisoned apple. But,” she pointed at Emmeline, “I’m in your basket. Or is it that you’re in mine…?”

Emmeline thought it over. She knew of many older relatives who were Grimms, and had hunted Wesen on their own, without any help from the outside. They had done just fine. But this was years, decades, centuries ago. It was easy to find out someone was a child-eating Blutbad and cut their head off. You didn’t have to worry about security cameras finding you, or some passerby taking a video and uploading it online for views. She had only done as well as she did because Uncle John and Detective Mansley had come up with excuses and alibis for her. Often she had to run off (with the killing weapon in hand) before police backup appeared.

And now she was just told that there were Hexenbiests–and other Wesen–in positions who could have probably moved in on her if they wanted to.

“Well?” Kriemhild asked. “What will it be?”

Emmeline glanced down at the silver ring on her finger. “You gave this ring to me,” she said slowly. “Did you know… I’d be fighting a Hexenbiest?”

Kriemhild’s eyes softened. She smiled once more. “I told you, I was keeping track of you. And I knew about the disappearances in Puget Park. I had a feeling you’d go and find out who was doing it.”

Emmeline touched the ring on her finger. She looked at Kriemhild. “And… Did you know Gertrud Baum?”

For a moment, Kriemhild’s face darkened. “I did. We moved in the same circles around Seattle.” She looked aside, at the rain out the window. “We haven’t talked much in a while, though. We had… a disagreement.”

“And you wanted her dead as much as I did?”

“More or less,” Kriemhild said. “But I wasn’t exactly in a position to take her out myself. She had spells all over her house to keep other Hexenbiests like me out.”

“Did you know she killed my sister?” Emmeline asked, her voice hard.

Kriemhild’s mouth went agape. “I didn’t, no… like I said, we haven’t really talked much in a while.”

Emmeline eyed the Hexenbiest up.

“Where is Gertrud now?”

“Now? She’s on the run from the police for the murder of two detectives. I have people keeping an eye out on her. But who knows where she’ll go?”

Emmeline closed her eyes and sighed. “Okay, say I did help you. What’s in it for me?”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Kriemhild gestured to the door. “Follow me.”

Emmeline looked at the doorway, the bright yellow light coming from the other room. She took a step forward, and followed Kriemhild out the door. Melinoe came up behind them.

“By the way,” Emmeline asked as they walked through what appeared to be a living room, “where are my clothes? And my sword?”

“They’re here,” Kriemhild said, still looking ahead. “I thought you should sleep in something comfortable.”

“Did you change me…?”

“No, Melinoe did.”

Emmeline glanced back at the maid. “You did?” Realization hit her. “Then you saw me…!”

Melinoe stared at her with her green eyes. “...”

“Right. Not much of a talker.” She faced forward again. “Just… keep what you saw to yourself, okay? It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“How do you like the gown, though?”

Emmeline pouted. “It’s not exactly what I’m used to wearing to bed… or at all.”

“Really?” Kriemhild turned and walked through an archway. “I think it looks flattering on you.”

Emmeline felt her cheeks turn red. “Um, thanks…?”

She was going to say more, but when they entered the next room, she forgot all of her other thoughts.

Emmeline looked at the great room they were in. “This is…?”

She wasn’t sure how to describe it. It was the sort of room that had to be taken in at intervals, as her eyes processed everything that they saw. She noticed the bookshelves first. Much of the blue walls were lined with them. As she stepped closer, she saw that they were full to near-bursting with books of many different titles. Some of them seemed to be from the 1800s, even. They were children’s books, “serious” (Emmeline always found that description silly) books for adults, and all manner of tomes on history, architecture, folklore, and more.

There were also paintings on display, old, European-looking paintings in addition to Japanese Ukiyo-e ones. The tables were full of miniatures and artifacts from all over–Porcelain dolls, Japanese daruma, old wind-up toys and automatons that must have come all the way from Europe. It made Emmeline think about that time her and her family had gone to see Hearst Castle in California. It was like looking at the whole world in one area, or rather, a collection curated by a person over their lifetime.

“This is all yours…?” Emmeline said after taking it all in for a while. She glanced at a book on the shelf, illustrated by Arthur Rackham, and instinctively reached for it, before realizing that it was rude to do so.

“Go ahead,” Kriemhild said as Emmeline withdrew her hand, “it’s fine.”

Sheepishly, Emmeline took the book and looked at it. “You collected everything here?”

“Collected, inherited… I call it my cabinet of curiosities,” Kriemhild said, smiling proudly. “Or as they call them in Germany, my wunderkammer, Wonder Room.” She walked up beside Emmeline and glanced at the book she was looking at.

“I see you appreciate Rackham,” she said.

Emmeline nodded. “I have a book with some of his illustrations in my apartment.”

“Really?” Kriemhild looked at the book with her. “You know, he was a Grimm, too.”

“... Seriously?”

Kriemhild grinned. “I actually have some of his journals. Did you know he once battled a Nixie?”

Emmeline looked up from the book. “Wait… you have Grimm journals? Here?” She started looking around.

Kriemhild chuckled. “Not in the open. Come here.” She walked over to a corner of the room, towards an old automaton that vaguely appeared to be a man in old clothing. His soulless eyes gazed out at Emmeline.

“Watch.” Kriemhild went around and opened a hidden compartment of the automaton. She took out a key from her pants and inserted it into the mechanical man. She wound it, causing the automaton to whirr. As it did so, a section of the wall beside it opened up, revealing a staircase leading down. Pale light lit the pathway.

“Wow…” Emmeline said.

Kriemhild stepped into the secret door and started to walk down the stairs. “Coming?” she asked, turning to look up at Emmeline.

Emmeline immediately followed her down. Deeper, deeper she went, their footsteps echoing along the narrow walls.

The wall of weapons was the first thing to catch her attention.

Emmeline paused when she saw it. “You collect weapons, too?” She looked at the wall, taking note of the whips, the axes, the crossbows, and swords on display.

“They’re weapons used by Grimms in the past,” Kriemhild said. “Today a decent gun can kill a Wesen, but some still need to be taken out the old fashioned way. It’s a bit barbaric, but it gets the job done.”

She walked over towards the adjoining corner, where another set of bookshelves adorned the room. These books looked old and faded. She pulled one with a cover of black leather out.

“Here,” she said, “a Grimm journal; one of many I have.” She flipped through the book and stopped at a page, handing the book to Emmeline.

Emmeline read the entry on the page:

“The Greenteeths and the Powlers have had their feud as far back as medieval times. Much of this stems from both families claiming to be the descendants of the Lady of the Lake who gave Arthur the sword Excalibur. I have spoken to Grimms in the United States. Many say the feud has carried over to the young country, as well.”

Next to it was an illustration of a Nixie, with green hair and green teeth, and pale green skin, done in a style that Emmeline immediately recognized as Arthur Rackham’s. Her head was in the action of flying into the air, as next to her was an illustration of Rackham himself (the glasses were a dead giveaway), swinging a sword.

“You weren’t kidding,” Emmeline breathed.

“All these books are like that,” Kriemhild said. “They record Wesen from all over the world. Everything from an Alpe to a Ziegevolk, and then some.”

She gestured to the room. “All of these can be at your disposal,” she said, looking at Emmeline, “if you agree to help me.”

Cold reality splashed Emmeline in the face. She should have remembered; it was all wonderful, yes. Enough here for her to continue fighting dangerous Wesen. But it was also clearly Kriemhild trying to win her over to her side.

Sure she looks pretty and kind now, Emmeline thought. But she’s still a Hexenbiest. Don’t forget that.

“You really need a Grimm on your side that badly?” she asked.

Instead of answering immediately, Kriemhild went and pulled out a book from one of the shelves. It looked like an old children’s book, with a German title.

Emmeline looked at the title. Albträume für Wesen Kinder. Nightmares for Wesen Children, she figured based on her rough understanding of German.

“I told you,” Kriemhild said as she flipped through the book, “you’re the monster under our bed. All of our beds.” She showed a page to Emmeline. It was an illustration showing what appeared to be a little Blutbad boy being menaced by a Grimm wielding an ax. The Grimm looked positively brutish, and his eyes were pitch black, like he had no soul.

“Your eyes look like that when we woge,” Kriemhild said. “Did you know that? That’s how we can tell you’re a Grimm.”

“Huh. Never knew that.”

“So? What do you say?”

Emmeline frowned. Before she could give any answer, Melinoe entered the hidden room.

“Melinoe?” Kriemhild turned to her. “What is it?”

Melinoe took out her phone and opened a security app. She showed it to Kriemhild. Outside, drenched in rain, a figure stood at the front door.

Emmeline became alert. “Gertrud!”

“Indeed it is,” Kriemhild said. “Looks like she decided to turn to an old friend.”

Emmeline felt her blood boiling. “I’m going to kill her.”

“That’s probably a good idea. Even I want her gone.”

Emmeline glanced at Kriemhild. “Really?”

Kriemhild’s face was serious again. “Her actions risk exposing the Wesen community. Historically, whenever that happens, bad things follow… for everyone. Witch hunts, and all that.”

“I’ll need my sword.” Emmeline looked at the white nightgown. “And my clothes.” There was no way that she was going to fight in a gown like this. And it only seemed right that she use Helena’s sword to take Gertrud’s head.

“Melinoe can get that for you. For now… I’ll entertain our guest. When she’s alone, then you can move.” Kriemhild handed Melinoe back her phone, and started walking upstairs.

Melinoe led Emmeline from the hidden room, out of the cabinet of curiosities, and back into another room. She handed Emmeline her sword and clothes back, and Emmeline changed into them immediately. It felt comfortable, being back in her own clothes, with most of her skin covered up. In that white nightgown, she had felt more like a doll that had been prettied up by strangers. Now she was someone she could recognize in the mirror–she was Emmeline Salvador, the Seattle Grimm. She slipped on her remaining black glove onto her right hand and was ready to go.

Melinoe led her out, and they walked to where Kriemhild had taken Gertrud. They walked into the room adjacent to the living room the two Hexenbiests were in, when Melinoe held out her hand to stop. The lights were off in this room, and they stuck to the shadows. The dim light of the living room spilled in through the archway, and they remained out of it.

The voices of the two women in the next room reached Emmeline’s ears. She could see the two of them sitting around the coffee table–Kriemhild on a small chair, Gertrud on the sofa. They were having hot chocolate.

“... I thought I lost them in Fremont,” Gertrud’s voice went. She sounded like she was still coming down from a huge panic attack. “I hid in the shadow of the troll, but they still found me!”

“Relax,” Kriemhild said, her voice like honey. “I doubt they followed you here, otherwise they would have come in by now.”

“I don’t understand, Kriemhild, who gave it to her? Who gave the Grimm that ring? It had to be another Hexenbiest, I’m sure of it!”

“Well, some of the Hexenbiests, both in and out of the covens, do approve of the Grimm taking care of business for them.”

“But I wasn’t doing anything!” Gertrud cried out. “I was just at home minding my business. I wouldn’t do anything worth getting killed over!”

There was a pause. “Well, you did split from us back during the Black Claw uprising,” Kriemhild said. “I suppose some of us didn’t quite forget.”

Emmeline heard Gertrud scoff. “Seriously? That was years ago! I can’t believe someone would be okay with killing me over a difference of opinion. I mean, really!”

Difference of opinion? Emmeline thought to herself. That’s a funny way of saying you like using children for ingredients.

Gertrud let out an annoyed whine. “What does that matter anymore?” she asked. “Black Claw is done; Hadrian’s Wall killed every cell. They even got a Hexenbiest super soldier to help them. Imagine that. I just want to be left alone now; is that too much to ask?”

Black Claw… Hadrian’s Wall… Emmeline vaguely recalled hearing those names before. She recalled eavesdropping on Helena one night, talking to a stranger who appeared one night at their house. She was only sixteen at that time, and new to being a Grimm. The words “Black Claw,” and “Hadrian’s Wall” had come up in the conversation. When the stranger left and she asked Helena what that had been all about, her big sister had smiled and told her not to worry about it. “After all,” Helena had said, “you’re still a Grimm-In-Training.”

“When I find the Hexenbiest who gave that girl that ring…” Gertrud cut off, but Emmeline could tell she was seething. Finally, she finished her sentence: “We will have words.”

“That would be something.” Kriemhild’s voice had a sense of amusement in them. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go and make sure the house is locked. Stay here and make yourself comfortable for as long as you want.”

Gertrud let out a sigh. “Thanks.”

Emmeline kept her hand on the hilt of her sword. Kriemhild passed by her and Melinoe.

“She’s all yours,” Kriemhild whispered. “I won’t be long.”

Emmeline looked into Kriemhild’s gray eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Kriemhild smiled and stepped aside.

Emmeline took a deep breath, and entered the living room. She quietly walked up behind Gertrud.

“Hey,” she said plainly. “Haven’t seen you in a hot minute.”

Gertrud jolted; she took one look at Emmeline, and immediately woged, getting up and snarling at her.

“You!” she said in that raspy voice. “How did you get in here?!”

“Front door was open,” Emmeline said flatly. She pulled out her sword. “We have some unfinished business.”

Gertrud composed herself, the Hexenbiest form fading back into her. She eyed Emmeline.

“You want to feel more pain, Grimm?”

“I want what I’ve been wanting this entire night,” Emmeline said. “Your head.”

Gertrud scowled. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble for us both? My house looks like a crime scene!”

“Your house is a crime scene!”

“Whatever. I don’t have time to deal with you. Someone tipped the cops off about me. They swarmed my home and found your two friends’ bodies. I’m sure by now they found where I kept the materials I got from all those children.”

Emmeline felt sick to her stomach. “You brought this on yourself, you were the one hurting innocent children!”

Gertrud woged in front of her once more. “I am Wesen!” she growled. “My kind were gods once! Kehrseite would offer their children to us on burning altars in times long past! And now… they just believe we’re nothing more than fairy tales!”

“That’s not my problem,” Emmeline said. “And human sacrifice is so last millennia.”

“It’s tradition!”

“Some traditions are better left in the past,” Emmeline said. She pointed her sword at Gertrud. “But hunting bad Wesen, that never gets old.”

“Oh, really?” Gertrud growled. She held out her arms, and the objects in the living room began to shake. Emmeline braced herself, expecting things to start flying towards her again.

Except that didn’t happen.

As soon as the objects began to move, they stopped. Gertrud made a confused noise, looking around.

“What the…?” She flicked her wrists experimentally. Still nothing.

“W-what the hell is going on here…?” she asked. It was odd, Emmeline thought, to hear a Hexenbiest express fear.

“That’s quite enough, Gertrud.” Kriemhild stepped out of the shadow of the adjacent room, holding her hand in front of her.

Gertrud’s mouth opened in shock. “Kriemhild?!” she shrieked. “What is the meaning of this?!”

“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” Kriemhild went on, still holding out her hand. “But your actions threatened to take all of us down. This was the only way to stop you.”

Gertrud’s decrepit face had a look of betrayal and hurt. “This was… a group decision?”

Kriemhild shrugged. “In a way. Since you left we all made some tough decisions; deciding that working with a Grimm was for the best was one of them.”

“So that’s what’s going on, is it?” Gertrud glared at Emmeline. “You’re Kriemhild’s new pet now?”

Emmeline made a face. “I am not her pet!”

“You honestly think this can work out? Huh?!” Gertrud looked at Kriemhild, then back at Emmeline. “She’s a Hexenbiest just as much as I am! All Hexenbiests, no matter where they’re from, have their secrets. You have no idea who you’re getting involved with!”

Her words were like shards of broken glass. Emmeline scowled. “Maybe that’s true…” she said, glancing at Kriemhild. Then she turned her attention back to Gertrud.

“But Kriemhild isn’t the Hexenbiest who cut my sister’s head off.”

With that, she rushed at Gertrud and swung her sword. Gertrud dodged, but was clearly struggling to do something, now that she was severely crippled. With a shriek, the Hexenbiest swung at Emmeline’s hand. Out flung the sword in the action, and it slid across the wooden floor.

Gertrud made a dash for it, only to have Emmeline grab ahold of her arm and pull her back. Gertrud attempted to scratch at her with her own hands, but Emmeline clocked her right in the face, making her reel in pain. Emmeline didn’t stop, and delivered several punches to her, causing Gertrud to scream in agony.

Her screams fell on uncaring ears. Emmeline continued to punch Gertrud, her mind in a whirl. She knew how Grimms were considered the true monsters of the Wesen world. From the streets of Seattle, to the shadows of the Black Forest, to even further back, to the earliest days when people still thought that eclipses were caused by dragons or snakes that wanted to swallow the sun, there were always Grimms, ready to hunt Wesen.

She punched Gertrud in the ribcage. That’s for Uncle John! Emmeline thought to herself.

She kneed Gertrud in the stomach, and she doubled over, falling to her knees, the fight seemingly leaving her. That’s for Mansley!

And finally… She reached out and grabbed her sword, turning to Gertrud’s bent and defeated form. Her head was looking down. Emmeline didn’t hesitate.

She swung. Next thing she saw, Gertrud’s head was rolling on the floor, and her body collapsed.

“That’s for Helena,” she muttered as Gertrud’s head and body reverted back from the fearsome form of a Hexenbiest to the unassuming form of a human woman. Her face still had a look of despair in her dead eyes.

Emmeline took a few seconds to catch her breath. Gertrud’s blood dripped from her blade, making a small puddle on Kriemhild’s floor.

Over… it was over… She had killed her first Hexenbiest. The adrenaline still kicked in her body. She heard someone approaching; her flight and fight kicked in, and she swung again.

“Whoa, there.” Kriemhild held out her hands, the blade stopped by an invisible force field. “It’s over… you can calm down.”

Emmeline let out another gasp, before composing herself. She stood up straight.

“Sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay. I should have known better than to walk up behind a Grimm.”

Behind her, Melinoe walked up with a spray and wipes. The sight of a dead Hexenbiest didn’t seem to phase her at all.

“Now we have to get rid of the body,” Emmeline said.

“That won’t be hard,” Kriemhild said. “I know people.” She turned to Emmeline.

“So… about my offer…”

Emmeline held her hand out to stop her. “I’m really, really worn out. I… I want to take some time to think things over.”

Kriemhild nodded. “I understand. In that case, I suppose you’ll be wanting a ride home.”

Emmeline blushed. “Please?”

Kriemhild took out her phone and dialed. “Hope you don’t mind riding in a cop car.”

Emmeline froze. “W-what?”

“Relax, she’s a friend of mine. I told you I knew people.”

Emmeline relaxed a bit. “Oh… thanks.”

*** After the night she had had, Emmeline decided it was a good time to get out of Seattle and visit her mom and aunt in Kent. The rain had stopped, but gray clouds hung in the sky. For Emmeline, this meant that all was back as it should be.

She saw Mount Rainier’s snow-capped peak in the distance as she exited the freeway and drove towards her aunt’s house. The streets were wet and the trees and grass a fresh green, having been drenched all night long. In contrast to Seattle, Kent was a lot quieter. She wondered if there were any Grimms here, also hunting Wesen. The houses she passed by looked quiet, normal–but even Kriemhild’s mansion looked like any of the other ones in Broadmoor.

Emmeline drove up to her aunt’s house when she suddenly stepped on the brakes. She looked closely. Parked on the street across the house was that white car from before.

What’s it doing here…? Dread built up in Emmeline. She drove into the driveway of her aunt’s house and got out as fast as she could. She ran up to the front door and used her key to get inside.

“Mom!” Emmeline called out. “Tita…?!”

She ran through to the kitchen, expecting the worst.

Instead, she found her mom and aunt having tea with Kriemhild. Melinoe was on the couch nearby, minding her own business.

“Mom…” Emmeline gasped, catching her breath. “Is everything… okay?”

Her mom turned to her. “Oh? Hello, Pangga. Welcome back.” She smiled. Emmeline’s aunt smiled, too, and so did Kriemhild.

“Hello, Emmeline,” Kriemhild said. “We meet again.” Even under the muted colors of the gray morning, her red ringlets stood out.

“What…” Emmeline took a moment to catch her breath again, “... are you doing here?”

Emmeline’s mom spoke again. “Oh, Pangga,” she said, excitement in her voice, “Ms. Wagner here was saying that she’ll be willing to help with your financial aid for grad school!”

Emmeline paused. “... What?”

“It’s true!” her mom went on, stars in her eyes. “I had no idea you knew someone who worked for the city government! She said that she’ll be helping you, since you’ll be working for her now. She can help with your other expenses, too. And she’ll pay you well!”

“R-really…?” Emmeline turned to Kriemhild.

Kriemhild put her teacup down on a coaster on the table. “Well, the thing is,” she said, “Emmeline hasn’t formally accepted my offer. But it is still on the table.”

“She hasn’t?” Emmeline’s mom turned to her. “Pangga, think about it! You can still go to school and get your master’s! It wouldn’t hurt to run a few errands for a nice lady like Ms. Wagner, would it?”

“Running errands…” Her mom didn’t know what Kriemhild really was. Emmeline wondered if her mom even knew what kind of errands a Hexenbiest would make a Grimm like Emmeline run.

She looked at her mom, her aunt, and Kriemhild. Gertrud’s words echoed in her head: “She’s a Hexenbiest just as much as I am! All Hexenbiests, no matter where they’re from, have their secrets. You have no idea who you’re getting involved with!”

Kriemhild’s words followed right after: “I know all kinds of people and businesses in this city… and beyond. You can say I’m a poisoned apple. But… I’m in your basket. Or is it that you’re in mine…?”

“Well?” Kriemhild asked in the present. “What will it be, Emmeline? It’ll be hard work, but… I think you can handle it. You’ll get to see more of the city that you never saw before, too.”

More of the city. A city full of dangerous Wesen. Who needed a Grimm to protect it.

Emmeline sighed. She stepped forward and offered her hand to Kriemhild.

“Sure, when can I start?”

Kriemhild took her hand in hers and shook it. Her grip was firm.

The Hexenbiest smiled down at the younger Grimm. “You already have.”

EPILOGUE:

Final Journal Entry of Klaus Hoffmann, Germany, 18__:

The night before a storm passed with a force so terrible it was as if the Old Gods were riding through the dark sky. Because of this our journey was delayed, for we decided it was best to continue when the weather was more favorable.

The next morning Johanne and I left the comfort of Eisenach and heading towards the Hörselberg. The wind picked up that gray afternoon, and I experienced first hand why the Hörselberg–the “Hear-Souls Mountain”--received its name. It seemed as if the wind blowing through the mountains was the wailing of a thousand lost souls. It chilled me to the bone. Even more so when I recounted the warnings the local villagers had given to us of the entity that had been recently spotted there.

The villagers nearby claim that a mysterious woman haunts the mountain, luring in unsuspecting adults and children alike. Those who are unlucky are taken by her deep into the mountain, never to be seen again. It is the hope of Johanne and I that journeying together will ensure that neither of us are taken in by what we hope to only be a mere Hexenbiest… and yet the legends surrounding the mountain are enough to give even the most pious Grimm pause…

#grimm nbc #grimm tv show #grimm fanfic #brothers grimm #fairy tales #frau trude #my writing #fanfic #urban fantasy #are you a good hexenbiest or a bad hexenbiest #text

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