Romans & histoires Detective Grimm

Detective Sullivan attempted his way over towards me, but barely passed Elizabeth when Captain Johnston’s voice was heard throughout the room. “Anderson! My office!” I take one last look at Elizabeth before sulking my way into his office. “Captain.” I say shaking his hand. “Detective Anderson. I didn’t expect to see you back in my office, let alone my squad room. How have you been?” His calm demeanor taking me by surprise. I half expected the same reaction I had gotten from Elizabeth. The way I left everything; I was amazed he wasn’t yelling down my throat.

A rustling sound from behind his back made him stop from reading the book he's holding. "Professor, what's with all of these junk?," a guy with round rimmed glasses said. He was wearing a white lab coat and his unruly dark hair partially covered his ears and nape. His thick eyebrows were furrowed deep on his forehead as he scrambled over the piles of documents scattered on the floor. Leaning over the table stacked with books and papers of different sorts, he scooped down and held a tiny gray creature with big round eyes and yellow irises. The creature's body was slime-like, yet it seemed to have short limbs and a small mouth that produces a harsh hissing sound when it opens.

Grimm said to himself. He got up from the rail that was connected to the side of the back road and pulled out a metal pipe from his back pocket. When he pulled it to the front of him, the pipe instantly transformed to his weapon, the scythe. He decided to go to the closest to him, which was Mila’s friends, Brenda and the guy. He descended over to the car and opened the passenger door. Before he removed the soul that was floating around her body, he took out the golden container that Lucifer had given to him before he came to this place. He opened it up and turned his attention to the soul. He touched the soul with the sharp tip of his scythe, which removed the soul from the body it was conne

DAMIEN POV The precinct’s basement interrogation room smells like old coffee and sweat. It’s dim, cold, a place where deals are made in whispers and careers are buried in silence. Perfect. Griggs sits on the other side of the table. His shirt is wrinkled, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened. He looks less like a cop and more like a washed-up drunk who stumbled into the wrong room. His hands fidget, rubbing at the faint line on his finger where a wedding ring used to be. He won’t look at me.

He flashed a wry smile, beginning his introduction. “Welcome, everyone,” he said, his voice smooth and steady. “I’m Detective Jamal Khan. By day, I teach you all how to defend yourselves. By night, I deal with the kinds of cases that make that knowledge necessary— cases involving our kind; werewolves, witches, and all those creatures lurking in the shadows.” A hand shot up from the middle row—a young man with an eager expression. “Have you… taken any lives, Detective?” he asked, his tone part-curious, part-nervous.

Someone had disabled it before the break-in and reactivated it after. I called the detective directly. He picked up on the first ring. “Detective Morris here.” “You got your knife but you don’t have a killer. She is innocent and you know it,” I said. He was quiet for a while before answering. “You can make noise all you want but the public already sees her as guilty. My hands are tied.” “The public was fed wrong information by you and your colleagues. You still have to investigate further,” I argued. “We have our criminal, Mr Grimani. The case is in court now and out of my hands,” he said.

He's got a calm, friendly grin and a serene touch to his aged eyes like he's seen a lot, but never speaks of it. "You must be Eden Smith," he exhales, taking a seat across from me. Ryder kneels on the ground, not given a chair, and Dante looms over my side, giving the detective a stern glare. I lean into Ryder for now, finding comfort with them both here. "She is Eden Smith. You know that, so tell us why we're here," Dante growls. The detective looks hardly amused with his stern tone. "Well, I guess that makes you Ryder and Dante Golden. I wanted to start by saying we are really appreciative of you all coming down here, I know the circumstances are—"

Meanwhile, a detective, whom Lawrence had contacted beforehand, arrived with an arrest warrant in hand. "Detective Kim from Soro department," the detective announced. "I've come to apprehend Mr. Jake Dawson and Ian Grim for the murder of Mr. Samson and their attempted murder of his daughter." Lanceil glanced at Agatha, who let out a sigh of relief upon hearing those words. She believed that the pursuit had finally come to an end. Seeing her expression filled Lanceil with happiness. Although he knew it would be difficult to apologize to her, he was glad he had made the right decision.

Arabella smirked slyly, “Then why don't we hand the evidence over to the police and let them investigate it themselves.” “Come in.” The door creaked open as two detectives stepped into the room, their eyes quickly scanning the space. Gavin hurried in behind them, his face tight with worry. The taller of the two gave a small, polite nod. “Good afternoon. I’m Detective Harris, and this is my assistant, Cole.” His gaze moved slowly across the faces in the room as he flashed his badge, attentive, but not unkind. “We received word that someone here wanted to report a crime.”

I shouted, trying to make it sink into her skull. The door creaked open as an intoxicating scent filled my nostrils. My heartbeat increased; I could defer that scent anywhere. It was Grim's own. I hope he did not hear our conversation. I don't want him suspecting me. We raised our heads to find him standing at the door, pinning us with his morbid glare. “What are you hiding? What should no one find out about?” He asked in a deep voice.