The Grimm Diaries Prequels Volume 11- 14: Children of Hamlin, Jar of Hearts, Tooth & Nail & Fairy Tale, Ember in the Wind, Welcome to Sorrow, and Happy Valentine's Slay. (5 page)

“Are you a were—“ Wolfy said, gulping his drink. “wolf?”

“That’s absurd,” the boy said.

“Then you must know how to fly,” Peter wondered.

“No!” the boy said. “Why all these questions?”

“Because you have to be cool enough to hang with us,” Wendy said, drawing her fangs slowly at him. The boy’s eyes widened and he took a step back.

“Don’t say I didn’t make all your dreams come true before you died,” Ladle whispered in his ears.

“I know what he is,” Wolfy drew a serious face, resting his hands on the bar. “You know what this boy is?” he eyed them.

“What?” Wendy wondered what lame thing Wolfy would come up with.

His name is not, ‘Nobody Knows’,” Wolfy said. “His name is, ‘Nobody Knows What He Is!” Wolfy laughed hysterically. Peter and Wendy started to dance again.

The boy looked like he was taken by the absurdity of his new friends, and he realized all of a sudden that if he had spent all of his life being silly but happy, he wouldn’t have regretted the day he came to die.

“I am Nobody Knows What!” he found himself cheering as well, and started drinking.

“Pssst,” Wolfy said to Ladle. “Care for a dance, delicious girl?”

Ladle laughed and went to dance with Wolfy, which left Nobody Knows What dancing all alone, but he was still happy nonetheless.

Later, other customers arrived. Jack made sure he avoided a fight with the goblins, because he didn’t want to spoil the evening for Marmalade since she didn’t get out a lot.

Peter managed to keep Wendy under control so she wouldn’t cause too much chaos, although she went out and came back with balls of snow that she threw at everyone for fun.

Ladle was keeping an eye on Nobody, making sure he had a blast before she chopped off his head. Wolfy went back to serving food and drinks and made good money for the night. He intended to buy flowers with it for Ladle tomorrow, but then decided to let Marmalade do it because he might get so hungry that he would eat the flowers on the way back from buying them.

Jack was happy Marmalade enjoyed the night. Seeing her like that made him rethink if he should forget about the Moongirl, but he just couldn’t.

At some point, Nobody told them about something he hear about a dark man called the Piper. He said that the Piper was the scariest man in the world, and no one knew who he is but an ancient and undying evil.

   It made them all look at each other. Every child had heard stories about the dark Pied Piper when they were kids but they were thought of as imaginary rumors. It didn’t lessen from the fear that the filled the air when his name was mentioned. Even Wendy twitched at the mention of the Piper‘s name.

“Nonsense” Wolfy said. “The Piper is dead since centuries ago, and they never mentioned him again all night.

Right before midnight, Ladle excused herself, saying that she had to escort Nobody home. A little far away into the snowy forest she told him that she had to kill him.

“Do you really have to?” Nobody cried again. “I was starting to enjoy my life.”

“I’d prefer if you get on your knees and look away,” Ladle said. Sometimes, she had to be firm with those she killed. What else could she do? She made the boy’s last night a blast. It wasn’t her fault that it was his time to die.

“I understand,” the boy coped, kneeling on one knee with his back to Ladle who didn’t hesitate and chopped of his head right away.

It was a swift move, and Nobody’s head rolled with its blood over the snowy ground, although his body stood still, kneeling on one leg like a statue.

Something strange happened to Ladle that day. She found a single tear, rolling down her cheek. It was gliding down slowly and painfully. She didn’t understand why she felt that way. Even if she was new to the job she was destined to fulfill, something felt wrong. Was it her fault that she didn’t kill him right away? Trying to befriend her victims didn’t seem a good idea. It got her emotionally attached to them, and it meant she couldn’t do her job right.

Ladle waited until the single tear rolled down and fell over the stiffened body of Nobody, then started walking away before her mother got mad at her for being late and asking if she had spent time with Wolfy.

Walking away, Ladle suddenly stopped in her tracks. She thought she heard the body move a little behind her.

When she turned around, she freaked out because she had been right. The headless Nobody walked toward his head, picked it up and put it back on. He didn’t look like the nice boy she’d just killed. His eyes looked demonic as if he were possessed by another soul. This wasn’t the boy talking to her anymore.

“Who are you?” She shrieked. “How is it you’re not dead?

“It doesn’t matter who I am,” the corpse sneered at Ladle. “I have a message for your mother.”

“For my mother?”

“Tell her the Piper says hello,” the corpse said.

“I don’t understand,” Ladle looked stunned.

“Tell her that once the Piper, the Black Death, is back.”

Ladle took a step back, afraid she’d trip in the snow. She didn’t understand anything that was going on.

“When your tears fell on one of those you had to kill like now, you have fulfilled an old prophecy, Ladle,” the demon boy said. “It’s the prophecy that brings the Piper back to live.”

“And if so? What do I, or my mother, have to do with that Piper?”

“Everything,” the boy smirked. “The war between Black Death and Red Death has now begun.”

End of Prequel 10.5

The Grimm Diaries Prequel #11

  Children of Hamlin

As told by the Devil

By Cameron Jace

Edited by Danielle Littig

The Grimm Diaries Prequel #11

Children of Hamlin

As told by the Devil

Dear Diary,

Heya! Missed me?

I didn’t miss you.

No offence, you know. Why would I miss you? You’re not a special snowflake princess in a fairy tale book, or a charming prince who does nothing but get the girl. There are so many others like you; the same decaying creature like everyone else. You’re full of greed, lust, and mischief; all human, fault by default, and the whole nine yards of stupidity—your greatest sin, by the way.

If you point your finger at me and call me a devil, I’ll insult you and call you human. I was banned from heaven because I am badass; you’re not going there because you’re stupid.

Call me what you want; devil, monster, the bad dude who paints himself in ketchup from top to bottom and eats with an oversized fork; I am still the one who cleans your dirty rotten laundry. And boy, you guys don’t wash much. Phew!

And let’s get the facts straight. Without me, you wouldn’t get away with half of the bad things you bestow on your fellow humans. Without me, you wouldn’t have me to blame instead of admitting that you’re horrible, irresponsible, voraciously selfish, and a practitioner of at least three of the seven sins—again, there are eight, not seven; no one ever mentions stupidity.

We both know we can’t be friends, because if you think of it, I’m who I am because I didn’t like what you are in the first place. Long story short, I make you look good, so a little bit of respect, folks.

Now that I let it out, let me tell you why I am writing in my diary again. Remember last time when I told you about Bloody Mary. Well, sit back, enjoy your soda, popcorn, forget about your lazy-ass and lame TV series, and let me tell about the Piper and Ladle Rat.

I hear you moan, complain, and wonder what they could possibly have in common. Wow, just sit back, listen and learn…

One day, when I was bored in Hell as usual, I was dangling my feet from the edge, trying to do some fishing—a precious hobby of mine, if you know what I mean.

I wasn’t trying to snatch some fish from Lake Michigan, by the way. We have a black pond in Hell where all the fish died a long time ago—from the heat I suppose, maybe boredom, or how stupid and predictable people are.

I put on my sunglasses and a rainbow-colored hat, wore some shorts, and enjoyed the day in Hell. I liked to imagine I was on holiday out on the beach, watching the boys playing Frisbee and the girls chasing butterflies. I’d be playing daddy with a big cigar stuffed in my mouth, watching the kiddos and neglecting the fact that I am slowly killing them with the smoke I am puffing in their faces.

The little kiddos who I kidnapped to teach the Useful Art of Evil and Mischief—which is way easier than mathematics—were playing and swimming next to me in the black pond.

What a happy dysfunctional family we were.

Luffed
it! (As in ‘
loved it
’. Ya know lingo, right?)

But of course, that girl looking like Pippi Longstocking—who would never tell me her real name—had to interrupt and bring me one of those things she discovered. Last time it was a mirror, this time a crystal ball.

“Look,” she said. “I can see Death and her mother in this crystal ball.”

Did I mention she had a lisp, calling it
crythtal
ball? I wondered why she never said
please
to me.

When I looked in the crystal ball, I glimpsed Death’s cottage in the forest of the Kingdom of Sorrow, which I was prohibited from entering. It’s true that I am the Devil, but Death is way stronger that me. Death executes; it won’t take your opinion or negotiate a better deal. On other hand, I love to negotiate.

I got curious and peeked into that crystal ball, all my little kiddos watching with me. It showed Ladle Rat bursting through her cottage door, her eyes full of tears.

Ladle didn’t even salute her mother. She threw her scythe on the kitchen table, which was spattered with blood and tears, and went straight to her room, sobbing herself to
death
.

The crystal ball showed Ladle’s mother aching deeply for her daughter. I never felt that way about my kiddos, but maybe I am not capable of that.

Hesitantly, Ladle’s mother stood behind her daughter’s bedroom door, afraid to knock for a while.

“What happened to Ladle?” a Hell kiddo asked me. “Why is Ladle crying? I love her.”

“Shhh,” I said. “Stop the talking. Let’s hear what happened.”

Ladle said things about how she was supposed to kill a boy tonight but failed; that the boy was some kind of a demon and that he wouldn’t die, and told her to send a message to her mother and tell her that the Piper was back.

My heart dropped to the floor. The Piper? Oh, no!

I slumped back in my rocking chair, and my kiddos looked worried.

“What’s wrong?” the Pippi Longstocking look-alike said.

“Let me catch my breath,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about the Piper. I hate the Piper. He gave me the creeps.

“You’re not capable of breathing!” A short kiddo complained.

“Well, at least you could have the courtesy to let me pretend that I do,” I fired back. “How else am I supposed to show anxiety?”

“You shouldn’t feel anxiety. You shouldn’t be feeling at all,” the kiddo wouldn’t stop.

I ignored the obnoxious kiddo and went back to look in the crystal ball, and I watched the shock on Ladle’s mother when she heard about the Piper.

“See?” I sneered at the kiddo. “It’s not only me who fears him.”

Ladle’s mother went back to the kitchen and cleaned her daughter’s scythe from the blood, tasted her tears on it, and then let out a short shriek when she smelled it. I knew what caused her to panic. She smelled the Piper’s scent on the scythe, which he passed through his messengers. It was a peculiar and unforgettable smell. It was the smell of the infectious, contagious, plague spreading rats.

We watched Ladle’s mother close the windows, draw the curtains down, spill salt on the door’s threshold to protect them from malevolent spirits and make sure there weren’t any songs playing nearby. Ancient folks, like me and Ladle’s mother, knew of a rumor about a song that killed anyone who listened to it. It was said that only the Piper knew of its tune.

How I wish I did own such a song. Why did every other evil being have much better superpowers than me?

I watched as Ladle’s mother went back to her daughter’s room, now that her sobbing had ceased.

“Ladle?” her mother said cautiously. “Sweetie?”

The crystal ball showed Ladle hiding under the white blankets with a bottle of red wine, shivering to invisible monsters. “Go away. I don’t trust you anymore,” Ladle peeked from under the blanket, holding the wine as if it were her new scythe.

“What do you mean? Don’t you trust me?” her mother was shocked.

“Why should I? I killed a boy tonight and he didn’t die because he wasn’t who I thought he was. How can I be sure you’re even my mother? You could be the Big Bad Wolf disguised as my mother.”

“Let me explain to you what happened today,” her mother said.

“I don’t want you to explain anything,” Ladle said. “In fact, you better not be my mother, because if you are, then I hate you. You lied to me! You told me I am Death, the strong and powerful. You told me all I have to do is believe and trust the Tree of Life, but this boy today fooled me. He wouldn’t die, and I’m Death, mother! If Death can’t kill him then what can?”

“Just breathe, sweetie,” Ladle’s mother entered the room and approached her cautiously. “I can explain.”

“I don’t want you to explain,” Ladle sobbed. “Why didn’t you explain before things happened? You know how much I cared about that boy? I spend the day with him, trying to make him feel better about himself, and then he turned out to be something so… evil. You don’t even know how I feel. I cared about someone that I was supposed to kill and then he didn’t die, and almost killed me in return. This is all going tick tock in my brain. I don’t want to be Death. I want to be…a stupid sixteen year old.”

Ladle’s mother sat next to her and slowly pulled the blanket away, listening to her daughter’s benign curses of sweet anger. It was mesmerizing how Death was so innocent, how she cared for the boy and was now upset because of the complicated feelings she was experiencing. She had to know about who she really was and what she meant to the world.