Blutbad

When I was in his house, he handed me a beer and told me he'd never seen one of my kind before, a Grimm, and he looked at me like I was some sort of novelty. He'd been told about Grimms all his life, like Grimms were scary bedtime stories, but he had never actually seen one until he met me. I was amazed that he knew who, or what, I was.

He said I seemed kind of new and asked if anyone in the family had died. Marie was in a coma, and he said that explained it. When I said her name, a look of fear and anger came across his face. "I heard of her," he said gravely. He didn't want any more trouble, that he wasn't that kind of Blutbad and that he didn't kill anymore, not in years. Apparently, the Blutbad are what most people nowadays know as the "Big Bad Wolf," a fact by which he seemed disgusted. He claimed that he stayed "good" with a strict regimen of diet, drugs, and pilates, that he's a reformed or "wiener blutbad."

He knew about the books that Marie had because he said that my "people" had started profiling them over 200 years ago. All of the creatures know about the books, so I was told. It was all so much to take in. I couldn't believe that what Aunt Marie had told me was really happening to me. I thought I had to stop it, all of it, but he said, "You can't stop it, its who you are."

I started to press him about the little girl, but he said he didn't know where she was, going off again about his strict regimen. I asked him if he knew how many Blutbaden were out there (I was corrected for saying blutbads), but he didn't know. They don't socialize much because bad things happen if they get into a pack and especially when they see red.

That triggered something in my head. If he didn't take her and he was marking his territory, that must mean that there were others in the area. I figured he had to have some idea who was keeping the girl, and after a little intimidation, he drove me out to the other Blutbad's place.

I don't know what we're in for here, but it doesn't look good.