Flaming Desire [Ghost X Yandere!Grimm]

Chapter 5: Novice

(A/N Art is by Special3ffect on DeviantArt) 

Ghost's POV

I rested momentarily as the Grimmkin was slain. That was much harder then I originally thought it would be. The little thing kept zooming around, and once it was still enough for me to attack, it would ram into me or shoot fire! How was I suppose to land a strike on it without getting hurt myself?! Although that wasn't the thing that caught me off guard, once the spirit was seemed to be injured enough, the Grimmchild went over and gobble the flame off of the torch. I understand the harshness of Troupe Master Grimm now, especially after the flames that the Grimmkin used parts of that red flame to burn me with!

I rub at the spot that I was burned, my already thin chitin flaking away to expose my void body. This isn't good- I need to get some soul quickly. Unlike many of the residence here, my chitin is just as cuttable as the foliage that litter around in the Forgotten Crossroads, so unless I continue to try to strengthen my mask, I won't be able to complete my job. My true purpose-

A noise from Grimmchild breaks my thoughts, purring as he rubbed against my cloak. I try to get them back in to try to keep them close but he was much more content flying around by me. Good, at least he's not trying to run off.

Because I don't treat him like he's disposable.

I open my map, looking for the second flame. Ah, at the very edge of City of Tears, not too far from the Stag Station or the lift, but I gave a annoyed click as I remembered what that area was like. Spikes littered the rooftops of the buildings and structures, one slip and my mask will be damaged. Wrapping my map up and putting it away, I head back to Dirtmouth for the Stag Station, the child chirping and earger following me. Such a cheery little larvae, I wonder if the Troupe Master is that way? Despite his strange manners, he seems to be nice! A lot nicer then most....

I soon find myself softly stepping on the ground, hopping over the old crumbling well and heading to the stag station. The Last Stag is rather old, but I'm glad that I've helped him remember the ways of the stations using the bells. All though, it would have been nice and much more convenient if he remembered some of the more frequent stations that were used, but I do not blame him for his memory growing hazy. So much time has passed here, and the Kingdom has been in ruins for a very, very long time. Along with the......corspes that I've come across, those that tried to venture down deeper into the heart of the fallen kingdom, they weren't able to open the stations for the stag. That, or it's been so long that he's even forgotten the travelers and the stations closed again. 

I gave a visible shutter at the thoughts I have, but was taken by surprise as Grimmchild cooed softly, butting his head into my neck as if he was trying to comfort me, the warmth strange and unusual to me. I gave him a soft pat, my cool void body giving the child similar shock of what he gave me as his warm body was not used to coldness. 

Feeling warmth.........it was so strange. I've been used to being cold, and the closest thing to warmth before I....erm "summoned" Grimm was the acidy water. That was very painful, so anything that was warmer then the ground or my metal nail I'm weary of. But, feeling the warmth of this child, it feels so nice. I wanted to hold him close, both from the want to keep him safe and want to feel more of that warmth. Is that too much to ask for? Selfishness is something I never had, rather then self-preservation. But now, I have a reason to be selfish. I have, well, a child! Rather then the grubs that I occasionally find in the jars, there are no children here in Hallownest, this land barren of proper nourishment for anyone rather then the experienced, and even then I see those around me constantly hungry. 

Ringing the bell, I heard the approaching steps of the Stag, the massive transport battle creating a small poof of smoke as he awaited. I climbed on-top to the seats as the small larvae wrapped his body around my own, and off we went to the City of Tears. The next flame was not too far from the lift to the Forgotten Crossroads or the Stag Station, but I unfortunately remember the area. The buildings and structure's tops are lined with sharp spikes that puncture my chitin with ease, so a wrong dash or slip from the attacker will make it hard. Then again, the flame wielding thing already moves around too much. Looking up, the Stag was slowing down, and we soon arrived. I pet him, showing my thanks as I leaped off, Grimmchild uncoiling and taking flight once more, looking around at the damp area.

The air in the City of Tears was humid, my body producing a fine sheet of moisture as I roamed around before. The smell was apparently rather pleasant compared to the Fungal Waste or even the smell of Deepnest, which has been described to me as a musky smell. Grimmchild seemed not to mind the new environment, quite curious as we pass by the hanging Lumafly Lanterns that light up the once busy and civilized area. He flew around them, and I stop for a moment, seeing him headbutting the lantern and making a displeased noised as he failed to destroy the glass jar. Before he could do anything, I brought out my nail and tap the ground twice, the soft clang alerted him and he came over, hovering by my head. 

I gave him a soft pat, glad that I found a way to call for him without a proper voice. I can only mimic what I can hear, and i don't want to make a sound that he could hear later and hurt himself by thinking some infected bug is me. Besides, there are much, much more dangerous things then a little lantern here, and I must protect him. That is my-

Stop the infection.

Stop the enemy. 

That is you duty

That is your purpose

That is your life

YOU ARE MEANT TO BE- 

Grimmchild gave a loud noise of distress, me seeing that I was sinking my nail deep into the floor, the stones and tiles cracking. I can't let these thoughts get the better of me, not when I have more important- and in my view- more urgent matters in hand. I quickly pulled my weapon out, tiny debris going in the air as I dashed out of the corridor and headed to the flame. Being mindful of the spikes, I see the platform that had a torch balancing, a strange red essence leaking around and making patterned shapes. 

Dashing forward, the Grimmkin appeared, grabbing the torch and laughing as he twirled away, only appearing again to shoot fireballs at me. These fights seemed not like a fight, but a stumbling attempt at a dance. The eerie spirit wisked around me and dashing at me without a care, attacking me as I try to land a few hurtful wacks. Have they rehearsed this? Are they like Vessels, serving for one purpose of fighting challengers like me? Or is it more of a game for them? I've heard stories about games, challenges that are not challenges; no risk of failing and being considered weak. At least that how I understand it, maybe I could ask Elderbug or even Quirrel about it- I trust them.

They are my friends, after all. They wouldn't do anything to hurt me, and I'd never hurt them.

I land a strong blow as the Novice slips into the hallway, trapping it. I give it a hard hit, the jovial spirit chuckling and dashing towards me.  Spewing out fireballs from the torch and as I weave through them I give one last hit, it's mask cracking and wailing out, scarlet flames engulfing the spirit just like before. Grimmchild, who stayed out of the way thankfully dived into the flames as they went towards him, eating the flame. I saw, just for a moment, his eyes glow. 

That's......unsettling.

But, Grimmchild's response after eating is to head butt my cloak with force, wanting more affection. I gladly gave him more, clicking in succession as he coos at me. He nuzzles right underneath my mask, the heat now being more welcoming then before but still makes me tense at the feeling. He settles at prodding and curling right underneath my mask, before resting between my rather small horns, my head feeling much heavier with him on top of it. I take the moment to look at the map, the last flame showing that it harbors at the overgrown lush of Greenpath. The last flame was not far from both the tram and Stone Santuary, but feeling the weight of Grimmchild shifting as he pressed his face into the map, taking the long way wouldn't hurt, right? 

Heading to the Stag Station again, I head to Dirtmouth once more.

(A/N Huzzah! I post. Terribly sorry about it taking so long- my teachers have figured out how to use online school waaaay to well. Anyway, this chapter was more or less to help build the relationship between Ghost and Grimmchild, and I have many more exciting things to come. And thank you for over 100 view, this is my first attempt at such fanfiction, and do not be afraid to give me some ideas; rather it be for the story or if you have any art you think that could be used, all is welcomed! All comments, compliments, and constructive criticism is highly appreciated. I'll post soon! -Sheep.)