Life of a Grimm

Explain, please.

Life is valuable to me. Or, was. Before I.... Died, everything was good. I could say that, but sadly, I don't remember my life before this. Before my job as a Grimm.

There are only two Grimms in the world. One of them, obviously, is myself, but the other was long lost. No one's seen her for decades.

We do not kill, as most people would suggest (probably because of our scythes), but instead, we relieve them. We don't just off and kill them --although sometimes I will, if it's someone who's as mean as a dog-- because life is valuable.

Some take life for granted. They shouldn't. If only they knew what corners we lurked around, they'd love life more. Of course, only the people who are about to die can see us when in our spiritual forms.

Grimms are shapeshifters. We can scare grow men and women if we'd like, shifting into anything that ranges from ghouls to demons and what-not. I love doing this. Not scaring these people, but shifting into different forms. My favorite is a black cat.

True, Grimms can only shift into whatever color their hair is, and yes, their eyes remain the same as well, but it's still worth it.

If you haven't already guessed, I have black hair, inherited from one of my parents.... Whoever they were. My blue eyes were, believe it or not, also inherited from one of them. They make me stick out in a way that I don't like... I curse my parents for that.

Anyway, as I was saying, life is valuable to me. But in a... different way.