Ch 7 – Grimm

Tuag pushed his way past the soldier, following the boy inside the cabin. The smells of heady herbs and sweating humans had nowhere to go, trapped between the walls of the building and clawing at the grimm’s nose and throat. Unpleasant, but bearable to keep an eye on this strange child.

The boy faded, the smell of home lingering faintly in his trail. One of the army’s new recruits, a medicine woman, poked and prodded the boy. Tuag wished he could speak to her. She smelled of ink and parchment, and less of fear than most people who saw him. In Tuag’s experience, those three things meant she knew something. If that something had anything to do with the boy’s ability to reach his home, or the grimm’s continued existence in a place he should not exist, then he wanted the information.

The examination grew tedious, the human gibberish grating on the Tuag’s ears. The soldiers would not have taken the boy here if they meant to hurt him, and the woman seemed useful. They boy would stay safe for now.

The grimm did not like the sensation that came with walking through mortal structures, but the idiot soldier had closed the door and breaking the meagre piece of wood might be enough to retighten his tether. Instead, he closed his eyes, and stepped through the solid door.

Most of his body could phase through without even a tingle. But his eyes and teeth had been borrowed from this world to make his body, and they resisted. They pulled back, trying to obey the laws of reality as they made contact with the door. The grimm growled, pressing harder and exerting his will. It only took a moment for his body to get the message, the solid parts acquiescing and hurrying through the wood, trying to be impossible for the least amount of time before resolidifying.

Once outside, he shook himself, settling everything back into place and taking some small satisfaction as the soldier who had closed the door in the first place yelped and scuttled back. Tuag bared his teeth at the man in a mockery of a human expression. As the last traces of colour drained from the idiot’s face, the grimm turned and wandered away.

His master had not allowed him into the towns and villages they marched through , and the constant presence of walls played on his nerves, blocking out too much. Human reek filled every recess, the soldiers adding another layer and smothering the lesser stenches of pigs, timber, and smoke. How did they live in this?

Tuag waited for his tether to snap taught, expecting the pull every time he passed a new, terrified, face. The tug never came. Bored and restless, the grimm considered returning to the woods, but decided against it — he didn’t know what would reactivate his orders, and he didn’t intend to lose track of the boy. If he kept a low profile, the many-faced mistress might leave him be.

Instead, Tuag followed the smell of pigs, intent on drawing at least a little blood tonight. The door to the pig-house stood open, their owner not having returned home that evening to lock them in. The grimm sauntered inside, relishing the ripple of unease he caused through the sleeping hogs. Even unconscious, they sensed the danger in their midst.

The grimm walked through them and took his time choosing his prey. He didn’t bother walking around them, his legs phasing through their bodies without disturbance. He set his sights on a sow, full to the brim with piglets. Life within life. Perhaps that would be enough to get him home. He didn’t really believe it, but he didn’t need an excuse to do it anyway.

As he approached the sow, drool pooling in his mouth in anticipation, a loud screech broke the otherwise silent night. A pair of humans, half-naked, had spotted him. They disentangled clumsily, fumbling for clothes and weapons. From the smell of them, Tuag guessed he had interrupted something.

They pantomimed at the grimm, trying to make themselves look big and shooing him. The pigs stirred, the nearest animals catching the Tuag’s smell and squealing in high pitched alarm. The pigs, each hundreds of pounds, couldn’t touch the grimm to harm him — something he appreciated acutely as they hefted themselves up and began to panic.

The porcine current rippled away from him, hogs pushing their way in front of the sows and piglets. The humans had armed themselves, a spear and a bow between them, and they put the spear to work, keeping the pigs from crushing them against the barn walls.

The grimm watched the spectacle with a sigh, weighing the possible outcomes. If both humans died to the pigs, no one would suspect him of having a role in this. If only one human died, however, he would likely take the blame for the entire debacle. The heaving, squealing mass of pigs would attract other humans, who would likely blame him on sight as well.

He didn’t much care about the opinions of humans, but whatever delicate balance had made his tether so loose could be undone if enough drama brought his mistress’ attention back to him. Best to keep the humans alive and be seen doing it. Cooperation with the monkeys disgusted him but would allow him to bide his time and look for better moments for true escape.

Tuag stepped directly through the closest pig, sending another wave of panic through the animals. He ignored it, heading straight for the humans and their shrinking island of safety. His mere presence would ward off the pigs from crushing the monkeys until others arrived.

He made sure to broadcast his intent in the set of his ears, his relaxed tail, his lolling tongue – but the humans, mute as usual, seemed to catch none of this. They squawked, flapping like chickens as the grimm approached. The idiots took their weapons away from the crush of swine to wave them ineffectually at the grimm. Tuag rolled his eyes, closing the remaining distance, walking directly into the spear, just to make a point.

A hog, trying to turn away from the grimm but caught in the ebb and flow of its comrades, pressed against one soldier, crushing his hip into the barn wall with casual strength. The monkey’s scream mixed with the cacophony of the pigs as delicate flesh gave under the pressure. More soldiers appeared in the doorway to the main yard, adding to the shouting and confusion.

The spear-wielder tried to turn his useless weapon around, to drive off the animal pressing his comrade into the wall, but he had given up his advantage, and the pig stood too close. The bow soldier tripped, eyes scrunched closed in pain as they fell. It would only take a moment for the pigs to trample them.

With an effort, the grimm willed his body to be solid, using his own mass to push the pigs back, snapping and growling and shoving until he stood over the prone soldier, a growing ring of clear ground forming around them. The soldiers outside shepherded the pigs into the yard, relieving the pressure in the barn.

The monkeys gibbered at one another, gesturing to the pigs, the grimm, and the soldier whimpering on the ground. Tuag moved aside as the threat of the pigs waned, stretching as he prepared to move on, still hopeful he could find some proper sport for the evening.

The sudden pain in his side startled him. He leaped away in shock, his form slipping back from solid to ethereal on instinct. An arrow clattered to the ground, falling from his side as it lost purchase on his intangible form. Tuag blinked at it, then at the hard-faced, bristling soldiers.

He. Had. Helped. 

Tuag’s vision went red around the edges as his mind grew hot and sharp. Pain faded with his body, clearing the way for bitter indignation. Hackles rising, he snarled as two more arrows zipped through his shoulder to clatter harmlessly against the barn floor.

Screw the tether.

Tuag lunged, crossing the distance to closest soldier — the spearman . The man raised his weapon in defense, apparently forgetting the last time he had tried to wield the useless stick against the grimm. The point whispered through Tuag’s stomach, leaving no mark.

When the grimm sunk his teeth into the man’s shoulder, they met with a scrape halfway through. Unhindered by a muzzle of flesh and bone, Tuag dragged his bite through muscle and sinew until the man’s arm hit the ground with a wet smack. He carried his momentum through the man as he fell, ripping his teeth from his back and eyeing up an archer.

Within the span of four deep breaths, Tuag stood amongst the carnage of four soldiers, the remaining trio fleeing from the barn with howls of despair. The grimm panted hard enough to ripple the pools of blood at his feet, meeting the gaze of the first wounded soldier, still laying where the pig had left him. The man’s fear warmed the grimm. The fear of prey. The fear the general had begun to train out of his soldiers. The fear they should always feel in his presence.

Tuag licked his lips and tensed his shoulders, waiting for his reprimand. Slowly, he relaxed. The tether did not snap tight. In fact, he could feel nothing around his neck, though surely his mistress would know by now what he had done. She would not be pleased, and yet…

The grimm grinned, throwing his head back and releasing a high, penetrating howl. Tonight, he would have revenge. Tonight, he would hunt.


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