The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 1

by Isabella Fontaine

  Think, Alice! What else do you remember about hedgehogs?

  For starters, those things on his back weren’t quills, really … they were called spines. Spines! I’d totally forgotten. They just looked like quills. Not that that helped much in this instance.

  Hedgehogs could roll into a ball to protect themselves.

  They enjoy eating berries.

  My ears picked up the sound of padding feet crunching on shards of glass. I turned, not seeing anything at first except shadows. Then three of the servers’ blue lights blinked on, and the hedgehog was just feet in front of me, his terrible sharp teeth bathed in blue. I parried the spines, then stabbed at his chest with the fountain pen. The tip found its mark and the monster roared, stepping back and dropping one spine so he could clutch the wound.

  He still didn’t burn away!

  The blue lights on the servers flickered off. When new lights blinked on, the hedgehog was gone.

  But not dead. His throaty growl came from one of the other rows.

  My nerves had begun to take hold. My hand gripping the saber was sweaty and hot, and as I forced my legs to shuffle down the dark aisle, I heard the hedgehog’s wet breaths coming from somewhere nearby. It was in the next aisle, right on the other side of the massive server to my left.

  “Courage, Alice,” I whispered to myself, trying to silence my heart’s drum beat in my ears. “Fight through the fear.”

  I reached the end of the row, stepping around the last one, keeping my back to the wall. I looked right, waiting for a few blue lights to blink on so I could see farther down the aisle. I slipped into the next aisle, trying to force my eyes to peer through the darkness. A few blue lights blinked on, then quickly flickered off, as if they knew I needed them.

  A terrible growl came from nowhere and everywhere at once.

  “Come on,” I whispered, fighting the creeping terror that was choking my breath. I had to keep my mind clear. I had to trust my ears instead of looking frantically in every direction.

  I had to think.

  I took a few steps into the aisle, listening over the humming of the servers. I could definitely hear the padding of feet, but where were they coming from? I turned around, searching the darkness behind me. I turned around again. Blue lights blinked on, illuminating the floor.

  What else do you know about hedgehogs, Alice? I was missing something. Something important.

  They hibernate.

  They’re lactose intolerant.

  In the Brothers Grimm tale, Hans the hedgehog marries a princess.

  The blue lights flickered off. The entire aisle went dark. There came another low growl. My ears picked up the padding of feet—slow steps, then quicker. Then quicker.

  I ducked low and felt the tip of a spine dig into my shoulder. A dark shadow fell over me. Blue lights blinked on and then there he was, standing over me. A few drops of my own blood coated the tip of the spine he held in his right paw.

  There was a piece of my dress, too.

  I glanced at my shoulder, where the dress had been ripped. “You’re such a jerk, Hans.”

  The hedgehog howled and stabbed one of the spines down at me. I parried, sweeping one of his legs and sending him crashing to the ground. We stood at the same time. I couldn’t let him slip away again. I had to stay close, close enough to smell his horrible breath, close enough to see the fur on his muscled chest standing on end, close enough to be able to count the massive spines running along his back.

  My shoulder stung. I could feel a small trickle of warm blood staining what remained of the left strap of my dress.

  A dozen more blue lights flickered on. The hedgehog’s left eye blinked.

  That was it! Hedgehogs are nocturnal!

  In my mind’s eye, I watched him stab that that first overhead light. He’d closed his eyes right before he did it. Right before the bulb popped with a flash.

  “You want to fight?” I asked. “Then let’s fight!”

  I swung my saber, aiming high. The monster parried with one spine. I swung again, this time low, then again and again and again, forcing him on the defense. He stepped back. I stepped forward, showing only the side of my body. I stabbed at his stomach and he parried, falling off-balance, and I took a swipe at his arm. He turned, letting my saber cut across the spines on his back. A few of them burned away.

  “So you’re not invincible,” I said. “You’re just really, really strong.”

  The hedgehog answered with an attack of his own, pushing me back a handful of steps. I ducked one blow, then raised my saber to deflect the next before the tip of the spine could cut my face. He stabbed at my chest and I turned, jumping on the offensive, swinging down, then up, then down again.

  A handful of the lights flickered off. The hedgehog took the offensive again, swinging wildly at my face. I stepped back until more blue lights blinked on, giving my eyes some sorely needed help. I swung once, then twice, and then raised my saber high and swung down and to the left. The hedgehog stepped back and my saber struck the nearest server tower. Bright hot sparks flew out. The hedgehog cried out, wincing.

  I closed the gap between us, swinging high and low, stabbing at his chest, then his stomach, then swinging high again. The hedgehog blocked, his eyes blinking furiously.

  “Come on!” I shouted, swinging my saber at another server tower. More hot bright sparks lit up the aisle. The hedgehog cried out again. I swung again, then stabbed, each time forcing the hedgehog back. I swung at another server tower, then stabbed at the hedgehog, then swung at another server tower, sending more furious sparks flying all around us. The hedgehog took another step back, then stopped.

  He was up against the wall. He turned, ready to slip into the next aisle. I swung my saber at the last server in the row in one long arc, sending sparks flying out in a crescent shaped shower. The hedgehog howled. Now was my chance! I stabbed at him with all my might. For a moment, there was only darkness. I could hear the humming of the servers and our deep, frantic breaths. I could smell the monster’s sour breath. We were so close he could nearly bite me, but I knew he didn’t have the strength.

  The blue lights blinked on. There we were, pressed up against the wall. The burning blackness had begun spreading around the saber in the monster’s chest. Slowly.

  The monster growled. He snapped at me and I ducked, jamming the fountain pen into his shoulder. The burning blackness spread quicker now, engulfing the monster’s body until nothing but ashes remained.

  The blue lights blinked off.

  Chapter 10

  I followed the glowing golden trail to the elevators, and my worst fears were confirmed. The elevator where the trail—Flick’s trail—stopped was sitting on the top floor. I pushed the “up” button.

  There was no other way now. I only hoped Seth and Briar were all right. I would never forgive myself if I let Seth die here.

  Or Briar.

  The far elevator doors opened. I hurried inside and pushed the button for the top floor. The elevator zoomed upward, pushing my weight into my feet. I touched the wound on my shoulder. It stung something fierce, but at least it had stopped bleeding. The worst part was the shoulder of my dress was torn right in two and hanging in tatters.

  “This night could have gone better,” I said to my reflection in the glossy metal elevator doors. The reflection looked more than a little worn down. And unfamiliar. My hair was all frizzy, puffed out on top and matted to my sweaty forehead as well. It looked like a style from the 80’s.

  The doors opened. There was a glowing trail on the floor. I followed it, taking in the entire hallway in the process. Briar had been right: everything looked incredibly expensive. The carpeting was plush and dark. Gold trim lined each of the three office doors. Each door was made of a dark wood with even darker knots.

  Extravagant wealth, accumulated over decades and decades. But it wasn’t enough, was it? No matter how much they had, they wanted more. That was why they’d put those hidden advertisements in their game: they wan
ted more money, as much of it as they possibly could.

  Just to have it.

  I walked up to the middle door, where the glowing golden trail stopped. My hand touched the handle. From inside came a crash. I turned the handle and burst into the room.

  Sam Grayle and his sickly brother were standing beside the desk on the far end of the room. Seth and Briar stood with their backs pressed against the large bookcase. In front of them was Flick, his pickaxe held out in front of him, his face red. A handful of books were lying at Flick’s feet. I didn’t fully understand why until Briar grabbed another book from the bookshelf and hurled it at the dwarf, hitting him in the face and turning his face even redder.

  They all turned to look at me.

  “Finally!” said Sam. “Now, Flick, you may kill her friend.”

  “Which one?” Flick growled.

  “Either one,” Sam said. “Just kill them already and be done with it.”

  “Sorry, chap,” Briar said to Seth. “I really thought throwing books at these fellows was wearing them down.”

  Seth shook his head. “It was my fault, giant rabbit creature. I should have taken the stairs. It was such a stupid horror-movie move.”

  Flick raised his axe. I lunged forward, sliding feet-first on the hard carpeting. I felt the rough fibers burn the skin of my bare leg and winced, lifting the saber as Flick brought his pickaxe down. Our blades clanged together. I twisted my body and stabbed at the dwarf with the fountain pen. Its tip pierced the dwarf’s shoulder.

  “Oof,” Flick said, falling back. He dropped the pickaxe, staring at the burning blackness that began to slowly to spread across his body. “Never seen a hero slide before …”

  I lowered my sword. Flick lurched forward, and his eyes landed on my chest. Before I could stop him, he reached out, quickly snatching the vial necklace, snapping it from my neck.

  I lifted my sword, cutting his arm. He paid no attention as the blackness spread.

  “I’ve seen this,” Flick said, holding out the vial. The burning had turned his arms black, spreading like little tree roots across his chest. “I know what this is.”

  “Careful, brother …” said Sam.

  Flick ignored him. “This potion can save me!” He uncapped it, took a sip, and then stepped back.

  The burning blackness stopped, then began a full retreat. Flick laughed. “You see? You see?” He held out the vial. “You can’t stop me, puny girl! You can’t stop me!”

  “Oh man,” Seth said. “That was weird on so many levels.”

  The lights overhead flickered. Flick’s laughing stopped. An ice-cold breeze seemed to slip into the room. I felt a chill run down my spine. For the first time, Sam Grayle looked concerned.

  “Look away, boy!” Briar ordered, grabbing Seth and turning him toward the bookshelf.

  The lights continued flickering. Both Sam and the sickly Gilbert had taken a few steps away from Flick. Flick looked around.

  “What is it? What’s happening?”

  My mind reeled. What was happening? I tried to think back to that night at the beach, when I’d snuck into the drainage sewer and found myself face-to-face with a strange Corrupted man with horns. He’d had a message for me. A warning. What had he said when he’d given me the vial? It seemed like so long ago already. He’d given me a warning, both about using the vial and avoiding a certain Corrupted named …

  Death.

  “What’s happening?” Flick demanded. The cold breeze blew papers off Sam’s desk. Goosebumps popped up on my arms. I stepped back, more concerned with protecting Seth and Briar than dealing with Flick.

  There was no reason to deal with Flick now.

  A shadow slipped in through the office door, moving along the far wall before popping out like a drawing springing to life from a page of paper.

  “Look!” Gilbert cried out. “What is that?”

  The shadow grew, then slowly changed its form. First came the tattered brown cloak, then the hood pulled tightly over a terrifying rotted skull whose eye sockets stared down at the hapless Flick. Two bony hands slipped out from the sleeves of the cloak. A long scythe materialized, clutched by bony fingers.

  An icy fear ran through my body. Here he was. Death. The most horrible of the Grimm brothers’ creations.

  Flick backed away, screaming. He tried to run, but it was too late; Death held the blade of his scythe against Flick’s body and very slowly pulled him screaming into the pitch blackness underneath his cloak.

  And just like that, they were both gone. The lights stopped flickering. A horrible cough escaped Gilbert’s mouth.

  “That,” Sam muttered, “is why I so very much hate my creators.”

  “What just happened?” Seth asked, peering over Briar’s shoulder. “Where did the angry guy go?”

  “He’s gone,” I said in a low voice, staring at the place where Death had been just moments ago. He’d towered over even me, his heavy hood weighing down his bare skull. Flick had drunk a drop of liquid from the vial, and Death had come and taken him … somewhere.

  Briar tapped Seth on the shoulder. “You may let go of me now, I believe. The hero will take care of things.”

  “Oh. Right.” Seth let go of Briar. He looked at me. “Wait. Hero?”

  “Yes, she’s the hero,” Sam said with a sigh. “She’s the one chosen to rid the world of the Corrupted, yadda yadda yadda, Brothers Grimm this and Brothers Grimm that. It’s all very droll.” He stepped forward, facing me. “I’ll have you know that it was never my intention for things to get so out of hand, Alice. Flick … he was a loving brother, but he had a mind of his own.”

  “And anger issues,” added the sickly dwarf named Gilbert. He coughed a fierce fit, sending blobs of phlegm all over the expensive carpeting.

  “And anger issues,” Sam said. “And I apologize for my brother Gilbert as well. For you see, he is quite a sickly creature. Always has been.” Sam laughed, loosening his glossy silk tie. “The diseases he’s spread over the years … my oh my. Why, I do believe he was the first to introduce the Black Death to most of the western hemisphere. Once, when he had a particularly bad case of pox …”

  I stepped forward and stabbed Gilbert in the stomach. He lurched, coughed, and burned away.

  “Woah. Woah!” Sam said, stepping back. “All right. Maybe he deserved that.”

  “You deserve it, too,” I said, holding out my saber. “You’re just like them.”

  “… Although not quite so murderous, I think.” Sam smiled. “The Corruption affects us all in different ways. You’ve seen that. For poor Hans the Hedgehog, his transformation from hedgehog to prince lasted only a few short years before he mutated again. For Flick and Gilbert, their most dominant emotions began to take over. Flick’s anger drove him to become a murderous monster. Gilbert’s fear of sickness turned him into a walking disease bag.”

  “And what about you?” I asked.

  Sam shrugged. “I was always the first into the mines in the story of Snow White, and after our story played out, I stayed in those mines. I loved mining for gold. It was a passion. It was the first thing I remember. The very first thing.” He ran a finger along his desk, taking a deep breath. “No doubt for you, the first thing you remember was something from your childhood. I never had a childhood. I was never born. I simply existed one day because those blasted Brothers Grimm decided to dabble in very dark magic.”

  “A sob story no doubt meant to lower your defenses,” Briar said to me. “He is a monster like the others.”

  “Greed gets the best of me, sometimes,” Sam admitted. He puffed out his chest. “But I’m not quite so evil yet. I’m a crude, calculating businessman to be sure … but a murderer? I think not. Not yet, at least.”

  “You told your brother to kill my friends,” I said.

  Sam plucked something from the sleeve of his suit coat. “A cold calculation. I knew you would save them. I knew you would kill my brother.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because I’
m better off without him,” Sam said simply. “Although I will so dearly miss Gilbert. He was a sweet little disease bag. He couldn’t control his sickness, the poor fool.”

  “He has to die,” Briar said. “All of the Corrupted must die. They are all evil, Alice.”

  Sam’s head snapped to Briar. His eyes narrowed.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t kill anyone,” Seth offered. “I mean, like, maybe we should just go home and get some sleep and see how things look in the morning.”

  Sam ignored him, turning back to me. His eyes moved to the tip of my saber for just a moment. “Alice, you must understand that you have no choice in this matter. Has your idiotic rabbit helper told you about dear, sweet Grace?”

  “Only that she was a good hero,” I said.

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

  “Oh dear,” Briar said, tapping his paws together.

  “Grace had a family once,” Sam said. “Oh yes, she did. She was a tenacious hero, always bravely throwing herself into the heat of battle as if she had nothing to lose. She found soon enough that she had everything to lose, Alice.”

  “She had a family,” I whispered. My thoughts went to my parents. I felt a cold chill run down my spine.

  “She threatened my life,” Sam said. “She went after my brothers, killing one of them. So I killed her aunt and uncle. I told her if she ever came after me, I would kill her baby.”

  “Her child …” the words slipped out of my mouth.

  Sam’s eyes seemed to glow. “Grace learned fear. Fear for her baby.”

  “Then you are a murderer,” I said.

  Sam shook his head. “I was merely acting in self-defense. Surely that is not murder, right?”

  I turned to Briar. His ears were down, pulled back. “I’m so sorry, Alice. I … you were already so upset about everything else. I was afraid you would be angry with me.”

  I put a hand on his shoulder. “You should have told me, friend.”

  He lowered his head. “I’m so sorry. Friend.”