Grimm: War Of The Wessen

The Prey

The man who had been sat by the window fell to the floor laughing. "Well done, how long have you known?" His voice was strangely accented, English probably. He wore a long, black, Sherlock Holmes looking coat, sturdy military boots and a pair of; now broken, mirrored sunglasses. "Well, no one was at the counter, the curtains were pulled, security camera light wasn't on and the lock seemed like it had been picked, an elaborate trap, but not a functional one." She replied, drawing her pistol. "Well, it's ensnared you, you know I've heard so much about the reaper defector who now works as a personal bodyguard for a possible Grimm, but I admit you're not what I imagined." He pulled himself up and Sam got a good look at his face, about the same age as her with pale skin, sharp cheekbones and mismatched eyes: one black one crimson. His hair was longish, coal black and messy, brushing the top of his coat collar. He hardly looked like assassin material, but the nasty looking twin daggers he held told her otherwise.
"Little unsporting isn't it, gun against a sword?" He winced, "surely you Americans have some form of honour?"
"Honour never won any battles." She replied.
"No, but it makes them more fun." He swiped at her legs, catching her off guard and knocking her to the ground, swiping the gun away from her hands. "Now, blutbad, tell me where the witch went and I'll spare you."
"Who are you and why do you care?" Sam growled, "of course," the man smiled wickedly, "few know me by this face, perhaps this will jog your memory." His face suddenly morphed into that similar to a raven and he drew a wicked knife from his belt. A frightened expression crossed her face.
"Doctor Grief." She gasped...

By the way, I have changed Carmine's name to Samiriahel/Sam because I like the new name better :)