Dear Diary—
I'm not sure what to think now. I am not alone anymore... But I think my companions hate me.
Let me explain how it happened: I had fallen asleep in Mau-Mau's rocking chair last night. When I woke up, a girl was rummaging through my clothes as I still wore them, looking for anything of value. I yelled, and she woged into a Fuchsbau. Then the leader came in and told everybody off. He is a Klaustriech by the name of Bergen.
I was scared of him at first; the only Wesen I had seen before then were my friends at the Kinderhaus and the Lowen who killed them all. I did not know whether this Klaustreich would be the same. He spoke softly, and he seemed almost more afraid of me when I told him what I was than I was of him. He could have killed me then and there, but he didn't. He seemed to know Mau-Mau somehow. When I told him that I had nowhere to go, and no idea if the Lowen would be back, he said he would talk to the others about letting me run with them. He brought me outside where the others were going over everything they had scavenged from the Kinderhaus.
The second-in-command of Bergen's crew is a Wider Blutbad named Oliver. There is a Geier couple named Justin and Vexie. They wanted to get rid of me; frankly, I wouldn't mind not being in the same group as Vexie—she does nothing but glare at me.
The two Schakal brothers, Connor and Nathan aren't so bad, but I think it's because they're happy for someone new to pick on.
There are three Fuchsbauen, Marta, Donny, and Frida. I think I could be friends with Marta. She offered me some food when the rest of them were eating and talking about me. Donny is the funny one of the group, and Frida is sort of quiet.
Bergen has five other Klaustreichen who joined him at various times in the last few years; their names are Zephyr, Verne, Wendy, Mort, and Travis.
I make sixteen members in the group. They have been traveling north from California (where Bergen and Oliver are from), scrounging, begging, and trading for food and shelter.
"We're a bit of a rebel group," Verne bragged, tossing his head to get his curly brown hair out of his eyes, "most of what we do is cause trouble for the troublemakers, and help ourselves survive. No other Wesen will associate outside their own species."
Mort glared at his friend, "Don't tell her that," he hissed, jabbing Verne in the ribs with his elbow. "She's a Grimm! That's like a person telling the cops he goes around tagging fences at night."
"Whatever, Mort," Verne drew himself up to his full height, "It's not like she can do anything about it!"
At this point Connor came up to us. He sniffed me closely; I wondered what I smelled like to a Wesen. Did Grimms have a peculiar scent?
He looked at me in the awkward pause that followed Verne's comment. "Can you?" he asked me, raising an eyebrow.
I shrugged, "I don't know...what am I supposed to do?"
They all stared at me slack-jawed, as if I had suddenly asked them what a cell phone was.
"You don't know?" Zephyr shrieked.
Nathan eyed me from behind his brother. "Maybe it's better if we don't tell her," he mused.
"Tell me what?" I asked.
At this point, Bergen walked up, "I see you're making friends," he chuckled at the group surrounding me just out of arm's reach.
I muttered something to the effect of, "So that's what you call it."
He caught the scandalized stares of a few of the others. "What's up?"
They just looked at him. Bergen sighed, "All right... huddle, everyone," he glanced at me, "Except you, Brooke."
So now I'm sitting by myself. They've been talking for several hours now--about me. Every so often, I hear Vexie squawk, but they're keeping the conversation down to a quiet murmur. I hope they'll let me stay. Company that doesn't like me very much is better than no company at all.
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Dear Diary-
Lady Aurelia is behaving most suspicious today.
My search for the key began with all the records concerning the four keys that are known. Three of them are in the possession of the Princes here in Europe. I was surprised to discover that the last Grimm to have possession of the fourth made it all the way to America. In fact, the information I discovered seemed to suggest that they knew where it was, but no one had thought to collect it, apparently.
I brought this before Lady Aurelia, but she only waved her hand and snorted. "Don't bother with that one," she said, "He is out of your league."
I hated the way she said it. It made me boil inside. Like I was a worm, a nobody. How could she say that about me, after she made me Impervious? I told her as much, then she called me arrogant and ungrateful; turns out the spells didn't make me completely untouchable, only more resilient than most. All that pain, and I still couldn't do what I wanted? No wonder the traitors rebelled; I was a powerful human being, not anybody's pet!
She saw the rebellious thoughts as good as written across my face.
"It is more important that you locate the three keys we have not yet found," she said. "Only after you succeed in this may you pursue the errant Grimm."
I would pursue him, all right! I would track him down like the slithering, stinking schweinhund he is, and I would torture him with all the skill of a professional Grimm, and make him wish he had the stamina to withstand pain that all our kind should have had. I would show him the way a true Grimm treats a weak, pitiful Wesen—then I would watch him die.
As matters stand I have been forbidden to pursue the matter any further. I discovered that at least one key could have found it's way into the black market shelf of a Fuchsbau in England. That is where I am now. The Fuchsbau couldn't tell me much (and now it will be some weeks before he can talk at all; for a guy with so little information to give, he annoyed me with his chatter—luckily the means of silencing him sat right within my reach on the shelf) but he did say that his shop was sacked by a Balam who took several valuables, maybe the key as well.
I love tracking Balams. They take such pride in their secrecy and solitude, when in reality, once a Grimm finds the trail, the Balam is easy to follow.
This one will be slightly more difficult, as the dirty polecat just waltzed into Heathrow airport and bought tickets to someplace in America, Settle or Sattlea or something like that. I shall have to follow him, I suppose. Of course Lady Aurelia would rather fund the purchase of a ticket on another flight to the same place than allow me the use of her private plane, but I must obey my mistress.
We are boarding now. I would hate to lose the Balam in a foreign country. I sincerely hope this will all be over soon. I have better things to do than race after dead ends and loose cannons.
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YOU ARE READING
Next-Generation Grimm (A Grimm Fanfiction)
Fanfiction(Written halfway through Season 3 or so... before anybody knew what The Keys were for, so some of the info included is outdated, but the OC's were fun to write, anyway!) As it turns out, Trubel wasn't the only Grimm Nick didn't know about. Twin Grim...