The Grimm Diaries Prequels Volume 15 - 18 (9 page)

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Authors: Cameron Jace

BOOK: The Grimm Diaries Prequels Volume 15 - 18
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"How did you find
me?" she pulled her hand away, disgusted by my features. “I think it's the
horns, right? It's always the horns,” I said. "There is no place for you
here. If you don't leave, I'll--"

"Could you please
stop?" I used my long fingernails to pull out a chunk of the apple stuck
between my teeth. "You know damn well you could do nothing to me."

"How dare you?!"
Lady Shallot was about to cast a lightning bolt of some kind of magic upon me.

"Not going to work,"
I said. "You know I am part of your world. You can't just kill me that
easily. Besides, you need me," I snickered.

"I wouldn't in a million
years," she said. "Not until you burn in Hell."

"If I had a soul for
every time I heard that." I brushed another apple clean with my long pink
sleeve. I was a fashionable guy; I liked to dress well, probably compensating
for my ugly looks. Isn't that why we all get dressed, covering up our fat
asses, ugly bellies, and scrawny features? I just got a red face and horns,
that's all. My ass is fine, by the way. "Look Lady Shallot, you are bound
by the rules of the universe. And the universe demands balance."

"So?" She looked
puzzled--I love that look on people when I start to talk reason. Do I give the
impression that I can't talk reason?

"In order for Sorrow,
that new kingdom you've just granted to Angel and Carmilla to abide by the
universe's rules, you need me as a balance. You've created all good things for
them. And the universe, in its most annoyingly mysterious way, doesn't like
that. Where there is good, there is always ... ahem ... evil."

"You want me to let you
into Sorrow?" she sat back, defeated, knowing that what I just said was
true. She couldn't do anything about it. It was against the cosmic laws to
create a place purely good or purely evil--except Hell of course, which was
basically Switzerland. Believe me, there is always Switzerland, even when it
comes to the Gods.

"But if I do that, I'd be
conspiring with you," she said.

"But you will do
that," I smiled. "You know why? Because good people's biggest pet
peeve is that they like to follow the law, which they created in the first
place. And laws, however intricate, are flawed." I have always loved that
moment. Imagine a serial killer who kills so many victims. The good policeman
catches him, and then the court releases the killer, because the policeman
didn't read him his rights. Gotta love human laws and logic.

"I need to escape that
Abraham Van Helsing beating down my ass," I said. "I mean my tail.
Let me into Sorrow."

"What makes you think I
won't send him after you in Sorrow?" she wondered.

"I know you will, and
that I will have to escape him there again," I explained. "Let's say
I just need a fresh start." In my dictionary, a “fresh start” had always
been the chance to do the mistakes all over again.

So long story short, Lady
Shallot couldn't do anything against me having access to the ripe new Kingdom
of Sorrow. Little did she know that I needed to go there for a reason.

Escaping that Dreamhunter, I
needed to transfer my soul to an entity that didn't sleep. This way Abraham Van
Helsing couldn't enter my dreams and kill me. And I had decided… what better
place to hide my soul but in a puppet. Brilliant idea, right?

Courtesy applause, please?

I am genius.

The puppet had to be made of a
certain wood though, to take me in through a spell of course. It had to be made
out of Juniper Tree wood, a curly tree that had eyes at the end of its
branches.

Sorrow was one of the few
places in the world where these trees grew. And a man named Ghepetto was one of
the few woodcutters in Sorrow who made puppets out of it.

So here I come, Gheppeto of
Sorrow!

Like I said previously,
Ghepetto was a lonely puppet maker who prayed to have a son--a long time before
marrying and fathering Hansel and Gretel.

For a couple of days I
pondered whether to trap my soul in one of his puppets or not.--and please stop
asking whether I have a soul or not. I have something that makes me move and
talk, whatever you want to call it.

Even though the spell would
save me from my pursuer, I had no spell to get me out of it afterwards--going
back to my Hell Children in a puppet uniform would have been the end of me.

One night though, I had no
choice. The Dreamhunters had entered Sorrow and spotted me strangling a
squirrel. Like today's kids love killing zombies, I had a thing for choking
squirrels.

The Dreamhunters followed me
through the forest, and I ended up back in Ghepetto's cottage. Panting, I
rummaged through his puppets and looked for a puppet I liked. My specifications
were modest; lean limbs, oiled, and the hardest wood available. I needed a
mobile puppet I can walk and travel in. Finally, I came upon one puppet that
looked like a boy; probably Ghepetto's dream child or something. The puppet
also had a neat hat with feathers next to it. I told you…I had always been into
fashion.

As the Dreamhunters were
questioning Ghepetto by the door, I recited my spell to trap my body and soul
inside the puppet.

It wasn't a hard task. It hurt
a little, and the migraine was unbearable, but then I was finally in.

When the Dreamhunters entered
the cottage, Ghepetto was showing them that he had nothing but puppets inside.
They were going mad, unable to find me.

And my most devious plan was
working like a charm.

For two days, I struggled with
making the puppet's legs and hands move. The spell surely trapped me inside,
but to be capable of moving the limbs took some training. Like someone who'd
just implanted a new leg, and needed his brain to send the right signals to
move it.

I managed to jerk a leg and
hand for a while, but not move and walk. Staying trapped in this damn puppet,
looking inside-out had been real torture.

A week later, I was finally in
control.

Ghepetto seemed to have a
certain liking to my puppet, repeatedly enhancing a limb here and a hand there.
He had an infatuation with my nose, oiling it and smoothing it day after day.
Above all, Ghepetto had a name for me: Pinocchio.

Pino for short, which was a
derivative word of timber or something in Italian.

I waited until Ghepetto left
and decided to go out for a walk, to explore the world in my new body.

Standing in front of the
mirror, I pulled my hat off, but then I saw that my horns stuck out through the
puppets head. Some horns, those, I seethed. I put the hat on again, gluing it
to my head so I wouldn't get exposed, and went out for a walk.

The world was actually fun for
a walking puppet. I'd sprawl on the ground next to the School of Sorrow,
waiting for a child to pick me up, and then scare the shit out of them. The
child would run hysterically, informing his teachers of the talking malevolent
puppet, and no one would believe him.

I walked to the forest.
Strangled me some squirrels, scared some sheep, and befriended an air-headed
elephant who couldn't differentiate between a puppet and a monkey--don't ask me
why they had an elephant in Sorrow.

Slowly, I discovered that
being a puppet wasn't that bad. There was no evil I couldn't do being short and
wooden.

Ghepetto took great care of
me; dressing me up, and talking to me as if I were alive. I reckoned he
desperately needed a child, so I talked back to him.

Ghepetto fainted the first
time, but then I convinced him that I was a miracle sent to him from the
Gods--the oldest trick in the book to elude people.

It worked for a while, but
frankly Ghepetto was boring; too good, too naïve, and utterly without edge. I
despised those kinds of people; not because they were lamely good, but because
I believed they were just that way because they didn't learn the art of evil.
Wanna prove to me you’re good? Go study the art of evil first, and then come
talk to me about judgment day and repentance.

The time came when the
Dreamhunters gave up looking for me, thinking I had died on my own or
something. They had also become alliances with the king, Angel Von Sorrow,
fighting Night Sorrow's army on the borders.

It was time for me to find a
way out of this horrible puppet I was trapped inside.

Asking around, sniffing evil,
I found myself in front of a Candy House, where an old witch named Baba Yaga
lived.

The first time I talked to
her, she was going to eat me. Then she found me useless, and not tasty being
made from wood.

"Someone cooked you too
much, little human," she noted.

Amazingly, telling her that I
was Lucifer the devil, the Prince of Darkness, had no impact on her. Evil in
Sorrow had exceeded all expectations; I was just another guy practicing the
profession.

In the end, Baba Yaga told me
that my last hope would be the Piper.

"The Piper?" I tried
to grimace, but the wood didn't help.

"I am not going to repeat
his name again," she said, chewing on a brewed flesh of some kid, spitting
out the bones. "It's bad luck. But yes, it's him. He doesn't live in
Sorrow. You will have to cross the oceans back to find him."

"I would do that, if I
only knew how he'd be capable of helping me," I said.

"It's easy," she
said. "You sell him your soul, and he will free you from your entrapment
in this Pinocchio body."

"Sell him my soul?!"
I burst out. "I am the one who makes people sell their souls to me!"

"We'll, the day has come
for you to sell your soul to him."

"And who is he, to sell
my soul to?" I stomped my wooden foot.

"He is all-dark,
all-evil, beyond your imagination." She spit out another bone that fell
right before me. I cringed. The bone looked so much like wood.

"And who am I?" I
protested. "I thought I was all-evil, all-feared and despised," I
knelt before her. "Please tell me I am still the most despised in this
world?"

"You're the most
embarrassing at the moment, that's for sure," she gave me that look.
"You don't even eat children. Why do you think you're the most evil?
You're just celebrity. Maybe you caused a hassle up there in Fairy Heaven, but
we both know you're more reputation than real evil. Now don't waste my time,
and go get yourself on a ship across the ocean. Go look for the Piper, and beg
him to accept buying your soul."

In my frustration, I darted
out the door and ran out to the forest, crying like I had never cried before--I
just remembered, I
had
never cried before!

It was the worst feeling in
the world, knowing that you're not the number one evil entity. That you're not
the most despised, the most hated. I can't explain how much it hurt.

In my moment of weakness, the
universe decided to make real fun of me. It sent me a fox.

Mr. Fox talked to me, as if it
was normal to talk to puppets. He made it look easy, and he came across as
understanding. Even when I explained that I was the devil trapped in a puppet,
he believed me. He advised me to live my life, until I found this Piper and
sold him my soul.

"So you have heard of the
Piper before?" I asked, sounding naïve, my confidence shattered.

"It almost everyone's
dream to sell their soul to the Piper," The Fox leaned forward, as if he
didn't want anyone to hear him. "Did you know that the most famous
musicians have sold their souls to the Piper?"

"Are you saying no one's
ever wanted to sell his soul to me, the devil?"

"Well for one, if I were
you, I wouldn't tell anyone I am the devil in that puppet outfit," the Fox
noted. "And two, we both know that people don't want to sell their souls
to you. You make them do it, using their weakness. It's pretty sneaky and disrespectful.
I am a Fox, so I know what I am talking about when I say sneaky."

"So what do you suggest I
do now?" I asked the Fox.

"There is a nameless
Puppet Master who entertains the Queen of Sorrow and her friends. He is the man
who buys Ghepetto's puppets regularly. I suggest you go attend his show, and
become one of his puppets."

"You want me to work? I
never worked for anyone in my life, even the Gods," I folded my wooden
arms and looked away.

"Well, you will work for
the Puppet Master, I tell you that," the Fox said. "He knows how to
find the Piper."

"Really?" I was
aware of sounding like a child. My reputation as a badass devil was really
diminishing.

The Fox showed me the way to
the Puppet Master, carrying me like any other puppet.

The Puppet Master didn't like
way I looked. He said that he wanted to give me new legs and arms, and he hated
my nose. The sneaky Fox agreed, and was paid a hefty price, using me--I hope my
children in Hell never hear this part of the story about me. I had been
double-crossed by a Fox.

When the Puppet Master started
cutting my legs and hands to pieces, I had to scream. It hurt, like going back
to Heaven and apologizing to the Gods.

"What kind of demon are
you?" The Puppet Master flashed a cross at me.

"Put that away, please,"
I sighed. "It doesn't work, not even on vampires. Besides, I am a talking
puppet. Why would you fear me?" I did a little dance for him, and the man
laughed and relaxed. Funny how you can disarm anyone in this world by
pretending you are a fool.

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