Grimm

Grimm - Part 2 - Beauty or the Beast?

Pausing for a moment, my mind escaped from its trance. Dr. Hamelin had his eyes fixed firm upon my own, the same stale smirk he had worn under the doorway still on his lips. His right leg was propped up across the other, a small notepad rested in his lap. He had made a habit of scribbling words down without breaking sight of me, as if he feared he would miss a keen detail if he allowed himself to look elsewhere. Taking notice of my apparent peculiar gaze towards him, he nodded his head in an agreeing fashion and raised his brow, "Not often has a client been so reluctant to express their emotions, yet when given the chance they speak with such fluency. You retell these events as if they had occurred on multiple occasions, as if the sight of this boy's death has been routine and rehearsed," Readjusting himself, he raised a freshly poured glass to his lips, "There is a certain poeticness in the way you talk, as if you are merely reciting a poem," He paused for a moment, taking a sip from the glass and returning it to the tabletop, "Or in this case, a fairytale of your own."

"I apologize Doctor, but I am afraid I don't follow," I too, noticing that I had been ever so slightly sliding down the back of the chair, bolstered my posture and allowed myself to lean heavily upon its arm, "I only describe it as I perceiv-" There had been a faint roar from below, or if not in actuality, I alone was capable of at least hearing the cry. It was a squeal that had so perfectly matched that of the Chase Adams I had many times heard before. The shrill sound, although so sudden and so soft, had sent a tingle up through my spine making my hairs stand on end.

"Mr. Reid, are you alright? Is there a problem?" Showing that he was truly concerned with my well being, he sprung up from his chair, his notepad falling to the floor.

Feeling rather embarrassed at the measures in which he reacted, I notioned that the sound must have been nothing more than my own subconscious reminding me of the scorched child in his fiery agony; yet my white knuckles clenching tight upon the armrest told another story. "Oh no. . . I just heard- uh- nothing, it isn't important, merely my mind playing tricks on me," Releasing my grip, I rubbed hard under my eyes as if attempting to wipe away the ghouls haunting me, "I didn't mean to frighten you, I just-"

Already he was propped back up in his seat, but with a harsh growl he cut me off, "Mr. Reid, may I remind you that I allowed you to consult me with no notice beforehand," For a split second what had once been a kindly-looking, pleasant man, had become unrecognizable with a deep crimson shade sprouting through his pigment, "Please make it worth my while."

Startled by the ferocity in which he spoke, my posture sank with my spirits as I attempted to muster and recollect my past thoughts. Only half of my mind was focused in these quick few moments in which I gathered myself, the other half was still intent on hearing the cry once more. Rinsing my mouth with a short swig from a glass of my own, I began to retell my story from where I had left off. Dr. Hamelin had urged me to leave out any unimportant detail, it seemed that he was only interested in the investigation. At first my speech was slow, but as I delved deeper into my nightmares I could feel my words rolling off my tongue like lyrics.

To our disbelief the tiny scrap of paper found within the clutches of Chase Adams was more than just an allusion into our future; it was the key to finding the next piece of the puzzle. Although at the surface it was nothing more than just a strip torn from a notebook, the forensics team was able to extract a miniscule sample of DNA from within the ink in which it was written. Not often does such a small amount bring results such as the ones we found, but of course, we were only following what guidelines the man behind all of this had left us; a man so clever as to lace his own ink in order to lead us to his next work of monstrous art. We had found a unprecedented match, Ms. Carsyn Belle, who had been brought into custody only 4 months previously on charges of violent protests. She had only been held behind bars for little more than a night on part because she had never actually committed any true crime, it was just a matter of maintaining the peace amongst the streets. Her files gave us all of the necessary information we needed to locate her, and we took every precaution to prepare for the most dangerous situation. I may have been following by his rules, but never would I walk blindfolded into one of these traps.