The Grimm Diaries Prequels Volume 15 - 18 (10 page)

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Authors: Cameron Jace

BOOK: The Grimm Diaries Prequels Volume 15 - 18
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"Can you do that dance in
front of the queen?" he asked.

"I will do
anything," I offered. "As long as you tell me how to find the Piper.
The Fox said you know him, right?"

"Of course, I know the
Piper," the Puppet Master said proudly. "But you will have to work for
me for a while, before I tell you how to reach him."

"Deal," I offered a
hand for shaking, something I had never done before. People usually sign in
blood for my deals.

The Puppet Master took my
three-finger hand and shook it.

The days went by, and I had
become the queen's most favorable puppet in the shows. When she asked my master
how I talked, he claimed it was magic. I didn't care. I wanted to keep my end
of the deal, until he told me how to reach the Piper.

But like the Fox used me, so
did the Puppet Master. He trapped me in a bird's cage when I wasn't performing,
and stole the money I made. He even tried to cut my tongue out once when I
cursed him repeatedly in my devil's voice--but sorry master, puppets ain't got
no tongue!

Even when I decided to scare
him with my horns from under the hat, he laughed at me and tried to sell me for
the highest bidding price – as a devil.

"New devil, caught by me:
has horns, curses all the time, and is so evil, it's so funny." He tempted
others to buy me for a golden egg.

Sadly, ironically, and most
unexplainable, no one wanted to buy me.

What kind of world was Sorrow,
I mean really? Where do people sell devils as if they were exotic parrots, and
where in the world wouldn't you want to buy me?!

Days went by again, and I
eavesdropped on the Puppet Master--did I tell you it was my favorite sin? It's
a shame it's not listed in the Ten Commandments. "Though shall not
eavesdrop!" That would have been golden.

Anyways, where was I?

Yes, I heard my master say
that he'd never heard of the Piper before.

In what world is the devil
such a fool? Ahem. Fool me once, you're a sneaky Fox. Fool me twice, and I'll
kill ya!

Are you starting to feel my
nerves and anger rising? Don't say I haven't warned you.

So I waited for my next show,
where I played Hamlet in a puppet play for the queen. Instead of killing my
mother--or whatever that weird stuff Shakespeare wrote--I went berserk and
killed them all. Think Hitchcock's Psycho--I know it hadn't come out yet. Or
think The Count of Monte Christo on LSD.

Slash, swoosh, and snap. I
chopped off wooden heads with stiffened features and too many colors--ever
noticed how puppets are so creepy, and they play them for the kids? Then I
broke the puppets legs with my wooden hands, enjoying the sound of the crack,
and the splinters of timber flying all around. Then I walked over and brought a
chainsaw and went zigzag on them.

It really felt good. A devil
needs to flush away all the anger once in a while.

The funny thing was that the queen
and her friends clapped their hand enthusiastically. They called it the best
show they'd ever seen. Gotta really ask why people love violence so much. As
long as it isn't their head chopped off, or their chest taking the bullet, they
are ok with it. You've got yourself the best play of the year, a blockbuster,
and an academy award.

The Puppet Master didn't have
time to get back at me. I chopped his head off and broke his bones, as if her
were a doll.

That's when the queen's
audience began wondering if something was slightly off in the show.

Fleeing my bad experience as a
marionette, I ran away from the queen's castle, after someone had finally
suggested I was the...

No, they still didn't get it
that I was the devil, or a demon possessing a puppet. To them, I was the Demon
Worm that bore holes in their children's teeth. And I ended up hunted by the queen's
huntsmen, who were ironically the Dreamhunters, chasing me and not knowing I
was the Devil.

Can you believe this shit?

Anyhow, someone knocked me on
my wooden head, and I felt birds circling me before I fainted.

Hours later, I thought I'd
wake up in the queen's castle, but I woke up tied on a bed in a dark tower.

The first someone I saw was
that short hunch-man who'd knocked me down. Igor the Magnificent, he called
himself. He had an uglier face than mine, and a silver tooth.

"Master," he said,
talking to someone. "It's alive!"

Jacob Carl Grimm came checking
me out--I didn't know him at the time, but the man was some kind of Dr.
Frankenstein, having cut off my arms and legs, and using real people's limbs
instead. I was like a mouse lab. Even worse, a chicken lamb.

Now to get things straight,
you know that Dr. Frankenstein was never the name of the monster, but the name
of the lunatic doctor who formed the operation, right? Just thought I’d clear
that matter, for I may be a devil, but I don't like history forged and
misunderstood.

So back to the suspense…me
laying on my back, tied to the bed, and being experimented on.

"You think this one will
work?" Igor asked Jacob.

"Does it talk?"
Jacob asked, with a pipe in his mouth. He looked like a Freud: he thought he
was.

"I do talk you miserable
human Minikins!" I shouted. "Now let me go. I need to find the
Piper."

"How is it that his face
is wooden and he is able to talk, master?" Igor asked Jacob.

"I have no idea."
“Jacob the pretentious,” poked my wooden face, and I spat on him.

"He is wild," Igor
chuckled. "I know he is made of wood, but I swear I saw him run like a
kangaroo."

"I believe you,
Igor," Jacob said. "I just wonder how the goat's leg fitted with his
wooden body. He moves it flawlessly."

I had goat’s legs now?

I was going so mad, my wooden
face was about to burn to ashes, "Why are you talking to each other as if
I am not here?" I yelled, then decided to pull off my goat’s leg and arms,
and free myself.

Igor tried to catch me, but I
hopped on one leg, like a one-legged kangaroo, and reached for my original leg
and arm stowed aside. I jumped from the tower, fell many floors down, but
nothing happened to me. I was just a piece of wood, and I had to escape the
madness in Sorrow. Crazy puppeteers, women who ate children and spat the bones,
and a wannabe Dr. Frankenstein.

I spent the day after
knitting, gluing, and nailing myself together, miraculously learning that my
wood mended itself once connected.

I ran to the shore and snuck
through with the luggage into the first ship leaving Sorrow. A ship called the
Jolly Roger.

Hiding in barrels and bags for
days was intolerable; let alone each stupid passenger picking me up, playing
with me, and then leaving me somewhere else. I stood trapped in my carcass of
this cursed puppet for hours, listening to the silliest jokes and having to
experience the most “laughable” gestures a man can do to a puppet. I mean play
with me all you like; clap my hand like an idiot, spread my feed you pervert,
and wiggle my nose. But checking my groin to know if I am a male or female is
preposterous.

And if you're wondering about
my nose, whether it got longer when I lied or not, let's save that for another
diary--I spared all my nose stories from this one. There are much more
important things in a puppet than a nose.

Also, having been trapped in
this moron puppet soul for some time made me stupid. It took some time to
understand that this was a pirate ship. Well, I had questioned the crew's
drinking behavior and weird songs, but maybe I had been occupied with trying to
find the Piper. The crew sang songs like
Dead Man Chest,
where they
described fifteen men dying for a chest on what they called a Treasure Island;
a hunt that had been lead by the ever devious John Long Silver. Supposedly a
dear friend of the man, had a hook for one hand and owned this ship. They just
called him that, “the man with the hook,” and preferred not to mention him
much. They said he was away on a trip, trying to save another friend of his
called, “Captain Ishmael,” who had been obsessed with hunting a whale in the
ocean.

Who hunts a whale for shrimp's
sake!

I had also questioned the
pirates’ sense of fashion, which really suited me, I have to say. I even swore
I'd get myself one of their suits, once I freed myself from the puppet. And the
single eye patch…don't get me started, fantabulous.

One night, I woke up to the
sound of a scary man with a gushy voice like he had crabs clapping in his throat.
He had a huge beard, wore mascara on his eyes, and spoke Scottish English. His
hand were wrapped in cheap clinking bracelets made of cheap clinking things,
and sometimes cheap human bones--he said those were whale's bones, but you know
that lies are the only constant truth in humanity, right?

The most important thing about
this man was that he was the man with the hook. He'd returned from his
unsuccessful hunt for the whale with that Ishmael friend, and strangely he had
a name for the whale.

Get this. Moby Dick.

Why you would call a whale
“dick?” I don't want to even think bout it.

Hook; let's call him that, for
no one spoke of his True Name, had a hook instead of a hand. Besides waving it
left and right, and masterfully shooting bullets the shape of smaller hooks
from it, he liked to clean the gaps between his brass teeth with it as well.

But Hook was badass, I have to
say--a great compliment from a guy like me. He had been so angry for not
catching that “dick” whale, and decided the only way to make him feel better
was to send two of his pirates overboard, and let them drown in the endless
ocean.

How haven't I thought of that
when I ruled Hell?

Hook did it in a strange way.
He lined all his fellow pirates on deck, and pointed at them with his hook in a
random way, singing, “Eery, menu, mint, moe. Who's to live, and who's to go?”

Don't ask me what it meant.
Hook sang and drank his beer, laughing loudly, until his “go” landed on a
pirate, and he kicked him out into the ocean.

"No one ever survived
that ocean," one of the pirated whispered to his friends. "The
creatures in the ocean eat anything that's human. Good bye, Billy Bones,"
he waved at the pirate sinking in the ocean.

"I feel much better
now," Hook hailed, and threw his bottle towards where I was hiding. I had
to duck to avoid it.

The next morning, Hook woke
up, folded out a magical map of all the ships in the seas, and oceans in front
of him. It was seriously better than any GPS or navigating system I had ever
seen. Again, Hook, played his little game and picked up another random ship,
and decided to raid it, rob it, burn it, steal it, and sink it.

This man was on the verge of
becoming my idol.

The pirates hailed, happy they
had something to do for the day, and sailed to the ship.

I must admit I envied Hook. I
wished I was like him, bluntly killing people here and there, choosing them
randomly with no moral--or immoral-compass. I mean, I had always corrupted and
seduced people after studying them for a while and learning their weaknesses.
How had I never thought about this random behavior? If I wanted to be badass, I
had to kill and corrupt people randomly. That was fun.

Side note: I swore that when I
left this body, I was going to write my diaries and become rich. I was going to
call it:
The Immoral Compass: tips and tricks from the Prince of Puppets
.
Ah, I mean the
Prince of Darkness.
It will teach how to mess up
everything around you, and feel good about it.

I secretly hailed and clapped
my hands and legs as the pirates raided a helpless ship in the sea. It was full
of women, children, and elders. Beautiful. The pirates where vicious. They
didn't talk or ask, or show any kind of mercy. More importantly, they did it
with beers in their hands and grins on their faces.

I wanted to go to find the
Piper right now and say to him, “I will sell you my soul, only if you make me a
pirate!”

No wonder all kids wanted to
be pirates. I felt like a kid, and wanted to be one too. It was a moment of
epiphany. How could I not feel like a kid in my puppet soul?

Each day and night, Hook woke
up, picked a ship at random, and raided it. And I couldn't help but fall in
love with him more.

Impulsively, I decided to
introduce myself. I told him that I talked, that I was the devil trapped in
this body, and that I didn't need to find the Piper anymore, if he would let me
work for him.

"So you're the devil
himself?" Hook gulped, and laughed at me with his fellow pirates.

"I am," I pleaded.
"You have to believe me. Look at my horns," I took off my hat.

"I never thought much of
the devil anyway," Hook said. "He could wipe my dirty arse clean of
my shit, I mean sins, as far as I am concerned," he laughed again.
"But I am amused with a Rabbit that can talk."

"I'm not a Rabbit,"
I explained. "I am a puppet. All wood," I knocked on my head.

"He isn't a Rabbit?"
Hook frowned, consulting his crew.

"We're not really sure,
Hook," they said. "We've lived in the ocean since we were born. We've
never been on land as we're not allowed to, so we never saw a Rabbit."

"He sure has two ears
like a rabbit," Hook said. "So what kind of work do you want to do
for me, puppet? Want to clean the bathrooms? Entertain the pirates with a
little dance, maybe?"

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