just wanted to keep me from sneaking off in the middle of the night.
I did however find the lack of breakfast odd. He wasn’t much of a housekeeper, but either out of graciousness or expediting progress he had taken to making breakfast for us. Since I didn’t see him or smell spam frying, I B-lined to the back-front door of the living room to make sure he wasn’t battling a trespassing grim outside.
I reached for the door knob but it was gone. Lock or unlock it made no difference, the hardware within kept the door shut. Aside from the gaping hole that offered free admission to bugs, I assumed that it was an attempt at securing the house since we were without a proper night watch.
I headed back to the kitchen to the side door, but the knob was off there too. It took a lot to really scare me, especially these days, but the thought of being trapped in a confined space was ranking on my “pee your pants” level. “Garrett?” I said quietly hoping that he was going to jump out and attack soon, so I could fold like a weak chair and disappoint his efforts.
I heard movement in the laundry/storage room off the living room. The room had nothing to be frightened of, except that it led to the basement, the place where the deceased resident was stored.
The former elderly man should have been subdued by my holy water, but the process did require fairly regular updates to prevent emergence. It was the downside to keeping the bodies in the home, but it was just an unwritten rule that if we took a house, we had to protect the residents from changing. It seemed noble, past tense included.
I decided, with the little bravery that I had, to go check it out. I was confident the resident should be secure, and I assumed that Garrett was just planning a sneak attack.
As I rounded the corner to the little room I discovered that I was right and wrong. The resident of the house was still securely padlocked in the basement. The crystalized man before me was a completely different grim.
The one thing difficult to agree on when it comes to the grim is how to deal with them. Many people argue that as the bodies of the risen, they should simply be avoided and left alone. These are the people that usually stay held up in their homes 23 hours a day, living on whatever creature happens to wander into their traps. These are also the people, that despite their misgivings to harming the grim, will freely shoot living trespassers like they’re part of a carnival game. Damn hicks .
August and the others took to killing grim like a sport. The only rule, the grim must be animated. They consider it a low blow to dismantle a body that hasn’t tried to hurt anybody. It is a strange morality, especially since all crystalline dead have the potential to become grim, but once again, in a world without social taboos, we start to develop our own moralities. Humans are ingrained with the desire to be restricted. Without it…Lord of the Freaking Flies.
Which brings me back to the growling, glaring, human-wearing demon standing before me. My sympathies for the consecrated body he inhabited went right out the window the minute he exposed his teeth. The fine pointed jagged dentition in his mouth was handcrafted. It told me this demon was particularly maniacal. It also told me that it had full control over the faculties of this body.
Screaming would have been an appropriate response, but in situations where legs are far more vital than voice boxes, you tend to forget that part.
I ran from the room just missing whatever was thrown after me. I rounded the corner
I did however find the lack of breakfast odd. He wasn’t much of a housekeeper, but either out of graciousness or expediting progress he had taken to making breakfast for us. Since I didn’t see him or smell spam frying, I B-lined to the back-front door of the living room to make sure he wasn’t battling a trespassing grim outside.
I reached for the door knob but it was gone. Lock or unlock it made no difference, the hardware within kept the door shut. Aside from the gaping hole that offered free admission to bugs, I assumed that it was an attempt at securing the house since we were without a proper night watch.
I headed back to the kitchen to the side door, but the knob was off there too. It took a lot to really scare me, especially these days, but the thought of being trapped in a confined space was ranking on my “pee your pants” level. “Garrett?” I said quietly hoping that he was going to jump out and attack soon, so I could fold like a weak chair and disappoint his efforts.
I heard movement in the laundry/storage room off the living room. The room had nothing to be frightened of, except that it led to the basement, the place where the deceased resident was stored.
The former elderly man should have been subdued by my holy water, but the process did require fairly regular updates to prevent emergence. It was the downside to keeping the bodies in the home, but it was just an unwritten rule that if we took a house, we had to protect the residents from changing. It seemed noble, past tense included.
I decided, with the little bravery that I had, to go check it out. I was confident the resident should be secure, and I assumed that Garrett was just planning a sneak attack.
As I rounded the corner to the little room I discovered that I was right and wrong. The resident of the house was still securely padlocked in the basement. The crystalized man before me was a completely different grim.
The one thing difficult to agree on when it comes to the grim is how to deal with them. Many people argue that as the bodies of the risen, they should simply be avoided and left alone. These are the people that usually stay held up in their homes 23 hours a day, living on whatever creature happens to wander into their traps. These are also the people, that despite their misgivings to harming the grim, will freely shoot living trespassers like they’re part of a carnival game. Damn hicks .
August and the others took to killing grim like a sport. The only rule, the grim must be animated. They consider it a low blow to dismantle a body that hasn’t tried to hurt anybody. It is a strange morality, especially since all crystalline dead have the potential to become grim, but once again, in a world without social taboos, we start to develop our own moralities. Humans are ingrained with the desire to be restricted. Without it…Lord of the Freaking Flies.
Which brings me back to the growling, glaring, human-wearing demon standing before me. My sympathies for the consecrated body he inhabited went right out the window the minute he exposed his teeth. The fine pointed jagged dentition in his mouth was handcrafted. It told me this demon was particularly maniacal. It also told me that it had full control over the faculties of this body.
Screaming would have been an appropriate response, but in situations where legs are far more vital than voice boxes, you tend to forget that part.
I ran from the room just missing whatever was thrown after me. I rounded the corner
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