A Grim Glory - ON HOLD

Grim. The creature that lurks in the dark. The creature that does not hesitate to kill. So they say.


6. Alliance

Merana stared at him, her eyes wide and disbelieving. She quickly regained her hard expression, and tone to match. “Yeah, that makes me feel so much better.” She growled. Grim's own expression hardened, his cold, red eyes boring into the teenage girl in front of him. Did you think it would be something more? Did you think I did it from good will? His hood fell further down his muzzle. I did what I did. I do what I do. And I will do what I will do. Nothing will change that.

Merana was unimpressed. “So why did you come back? Why did you follow me? Did you want to apologize or something? After all, you did kill my parents.” Grim sighed, turning.

I was going to offer to heal your arm, but it seems you won't want my help. His voice was cold, reflecting the night air flawlessly. Merana shivered. The voice inside her head was disconcerting, chilling and most of all, threatening. This is what happens when I take pity on humans. The humans that I do take pity on never take up my offer. They always seem to become my next victims. There it was again. That same sigh. Merana bit her lip, considering everything. Her arm still ached, her head was spinning and she felt pathetic. She sighed herself, slumping against the tree again.

“So you're just going to leave me here? To die? To starve? To freeze to death?” She asked, her voice loosing its cold edge, instead sounding small and insignificant. Grim turned, his head tilting to one side.

I'll never be able to understand you humans. You change your minds to fast... He began to walk forward, reluctantly, until he reached her. A long feeling of dread built deep down in her stomach. Butterflies swirled inside her, their wings brushing her ribs, winding their way upwards. She blinked up at the looming figure above her. The six-foot tall creature towering high. From this angle, he looked almost as tall as the trees. He glanced upwards, sighing. First thing first. We need to get you to some sort of shelter. He thought for a few moments, before hanging his head in defeat. He bent down slightly. For this one time, and when I say one I mean one, you can ride on my back. You are weak and you clearly won't be able to walk that well. Merana stared at him in surprise. Here he was, Grim, the cause of her parents death. Here he was offering his back to her.

Swallowing down the fear that had built, she reached up. She grasped the creature's spines and used them to lift herself off the ground and onto it's back. With her still hissing in pain, Grim began to walk. Slowly at first, but gathering speed fast. Soon trees were zipping past, and Merana was whooping with joy. Wind flicked her hair out of her face, setting a black-blue blur behind them. Grim's cloak was also flying in the wind, threatening to come off. The dull grey spines on his back stated differently, curving in such a way to prevent the cloak from falling off. Finding herself wondering what he was and where he came from, Merana began to ask questions.

“What are you, exactly?” Her tone was curious, a frown forming on her face as she tried to place him. Even from up here, she could feel him tense slightly. Before she could wonder if she had crossed the line, though, he spared her.

I am a... Grim Glory, I think you would call it. He muttered. His voice sounded as though it was coming from some hidden corner of her mind. Merana's frown deepened, wondering about him. What was a Grim Glory? Where did they come from? How did he know her language? She felt as though she had already pushed Grim as far as she should, and so kept the questions at bay. She would have to corner him some other time.

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