The Reaper Trials

Most families have the tradition of passing down things. Jewelry, books, bibles, property, and just random objects in general. So, it wasn't too weird to get a large old trunk on my 9th birthday. It came from a great-great-grandmother who studied religion as I was told. It was over 40 lbs and rattled loudly when moved, we thought it must have been full. The only strange thing about the trunk was that it wouldn't open. It didn't have a keyhole, or clasps, or anything to keep it shut. But, no matter how hard you tried, it wouldn't budge and no one was willing to cut the old chest in fear of cutting the contents. This chest stayed in my room for three years, sitting at the end of my bed, being used as a stool. During those years, my home life slowly got worse and worse.
I was around twelve when it got to the point of no return. I remember running to my room and sobbing over that old chest. And the chest starting shaking and rumbling, and I remember stepping back in shock. It kept shaking and shaking and then it just-it just stopped. I walked over and poked the side of it and it popped open. I leaned over the edge and peered in, expecting it to be full of religious stuff. It was almost completely empty, except for a fancy leather-bound book sitting at the bottom.
I reached into the chest and carefully pulled the book out. It was such a pretty book. Its cover had a strange blue and green color to it and it had a dark-colored crystal embedded into the back of it. I remember I was still crying and I remember seeing the tears fall onto the book. And it started to glow in the middle, so I slowly opened the book and the light got brighter and brighter. And then he was there, standing in front of me. I remember him asking if I was okay and all I could do was ask, 'who are you?' And he just chuckled and said, "My name's Grimoire, but you may call me Grimm."
Not only did my grandma pass me down a chest, but she also gave me a demon. And he's an asshole of a roommate.