Giles Grimm Novels & Stories

Relief flooded my chest as I ran toward it. But when I reached the car, my heart stopped. The door was wide open, but no one was inside. The driver’s seat was empty, and the air was too still. “Giles?” I whispered, dread curling in my stomach. I took another step forward and froze. Right in front of the bonnet lay a body—a wolf with deep gashes clawed into his back, gasping his final breaths. It was Giles. His body twitched, a choking sound escaping his throat before his chest stilled completely.

Giles looked around a corner carefully, cursing softly, and flinging a knife so quickly, I barely fucking saw his hand move. I ran behind him, as Giles checked the man he hit in the throat, the handle of the knife protruding grotesquely. He bent over the man whose body was twitching. Giles met my eyes, grimacing. Nodding once, he wrapped his hands around the man's head and snapped his neck before removing his knife. Closing his eyes with the tips of my fingers, we left him behind and went on ahead.

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